I Hate You, Joan Rivers
by miseradreamer
Summary: Repost of a deleted fic with a very similar name. RPF - Lea/Naya: Lose a boyfriend, gain a best friend.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This story was originally titled "Fuck You, Joan Rivers", but it was deleted because it had "Fuck" in the title, so I'm just reuploading it. I don't remember any of the author notes I had written before, because they were added on here, as well I may have made edits that didn't get saved. So I apologize if there are mistakes, I'm too lazy to read through and proof this again. Blame FFnet.

I'm really sad that I lost all my wonderful favs and reviews :(. I still appreciate all of you who had reviewed and faved the story before it was taken down and thank you so much!

* * *

"Fuck you, Joan Rivers," I growl, turning off the TV angrily and dropping the remote to the floor with a frustrated groan. Sheila lifts her head from its resting place on my stomach and stares up at me with her large eyes as if to chastise me for my coarse language, and I roll my eyes at her, "Don't act like that's the first time you've heard me say 'fuck'."

She stares at me harder, until I give in and scratch the tender spots behind her ears and once again her small head is heating the same spot on my stomach.

I'm not as strong as the world thinks I am, and since when did being an actress mean that you didn't have feelings? I can truthfully say, without a doubt, that if I ever have my own show, I will never berate and put down people the way she does. It's one thing to say that my dress wasn't the right choice, it's a whole other to insult who I am and the looks I am born with. Who is she to say anything? Her face has had so much work done she doesn't even look human anymore and she probably can't even remember the last time she was able to make an expression with it.

I feel my phone vibrate from somewhere beneath my side and briefly debate whether I have the energy to lift my back off the couch far enough to slip my hand underneath and search for it. Of course I do, because I'm Lea Michele Sarfati and ignoring a text message is like leaving a present unopened on Christmas Day. It just can't be done. I try to guess who it's from as I slide my hand under my back, feeling around for the device that has almost become a biological part of me, and narrow it down to two suspects.

First, would be my Lady Di, always there to console me in my time of need, but as much as I want it to be her, I'm doubtful because she doesn't pay attention to such lowly shows as Fashion Police. That girl has her own sense of fashion and refuses to let anyone else dictate to her what is right and wrong. The fact that she was getting put down in the same episode for the astounding laser cut dress she was wearing last night wouldn't even phase her. She'd just laugh, the way that she laughs at everything that is entirely meaningless to her and then say something along the lines of, "Have you ever thought of what it would be like to have a hippopotamus as a pet?"

True story, actually. She asked me that very question in the ladies room last year at the Golden Globes, from the stall next to mine as I tried not to listen to Claire Danes pee in the stall on the other side of me. As I recall, my answer to that was, "I think I just zipped my thong into my dress."

It was a rough night.

The second person the text was likely coming from, was the only person in my life who was more diva than me, Mr. Chris Colfer. He was definitely watching the show because The E! Network was the default channel his TV turned to and all day at work he wouldn't shut up about who Joan Rivers was going to tear into tonight. Me, of course. It's not even a surprise anymore. Next year I'm just going to go naked or maybe I won't go at all. Yes, even in my own head both those answers sound stupid and childish.

My hand finally finds my phone, lodged under my right ass cheek and no wonder I couldn't feel it under all that cushion (I'm allowed to make fun of my own ass so lay off me), and Sheila is once again staring at me, but this time it's a very unamused glare because I, her bed, have been wiggling far too much for her liking.

"Go back to sleep, you," I tell her, astutely aware that I have become _that_ girl, who talks to her cats as if they're mocking her. At least I only have one cat. I'm not the cat lady. Really. With Theo gone, though, the apartment has a lot more space and Sheila could probably use a feline companion.

I find that I'm wrong on both guesses once I illuminate the screen on my phone and see the text message.

Naya Rivera

_Fuck her. U looked fierce._

I stare down at the text for a moment as I try to let the words sink in. I repeat them in my head like a mantra, in an attempt to regain some of the confidence I dropped on the floor, along with the remote. My phone vibrates in my hand, startling me from my self-help chant, and the screen illuminates to show another message from my beloved cast-mate.

Naya Rivera

_Stop pouting._

"I'm not pouting," I grumble under my breath stubbornly, feeling my bottom lip protrude as I say it. Sheila has had enough of my sour mood and makes sure to step heavily on all my soft spots, causing me to cringe in pain, before she dismounts me and disappears into the bedroom. I don't need her anyways. I'm much happier being self pitying and miserable on my own.

Naya Rivera

_Don't even try to deny it, Mama. Ur pouting._

She knows me too well. Ever since my social status changed to 'single' that girl has been at my side with a different flavour of vegan ice cream and the newest horror movie to hit the shelves, cowering with me on my couch as we forced ourselves to watch every gore-filled second, before crawling into my comfy king-sized bed and nervously giggling about how we could sleep with the lights off if we really wanted to, but we just didn't feel like it.

You really learn who your closest friends are when you're at your lowest point and I'm really thankful for having so many.

The knock at my door scares the crap out of me and I just barely manage to catch myself before falling off the couch. I hug my phone to my chest, wrapping the fleece blanket I had over my legs around my bare shoulders, and make sure the waistband of my sweats is still sitting on my hips and I'm not exposing myself in any way. I don't need to go into specifics, but I've had a horrendous past experience where I answered the door, groggy from napping on my couch, and had my sweats a little too low on my hips. The nice older man from 501 has been back a few too many times since then to bring me my mail that was accidentally left in his box. I have my suspicions that he's paying the mailman. Maybe he is the mailman. That would explain why my packages from Victoria's Secret look like they've been manhandled too. I should probably stop using my real name on those.

I'm not really looking my best to be opening my door. My hair is in a really messy bun and I showered after work without straightening my hair, so it's got this weird frizzy-fro going on. Then I've got this navy blue camisole on that has a mustard stain on the top of my right boob. I'm pretty sure it's mustard. Like eighty-five percent. It could be also be nail polish. Nevermind, it brushed off, it was just cat fur.

Like usual, I'm not wearing a bra either, hence the reason I'm wrapping a blanket around myself. I mean, everyone's seen them anyways and when have I ever been modest, but I should at least make an attempt, right? The sweatpants I'm wearing match the camisole and they are hands down the comfiest pants ever. I wish I could live in them. I think I got them at Costco, seriously.

I would care a bit more about my appearance, or at least about not having even the tiniest bit of make up on, but I know who's at the door. This isn't _know_ like about the suspicious cat fur mustard stain, either. Especially since she impatiently continues to knock rapidly on my door and I know when I finally open it she'll give me that sly smile that says 'Yea, I did that. What are you gonna do about it?'

And that's exactly what happens.

"How did I guess it was you," I say, quirking an eyebrow at Naya as she continues to smile and give me a one shouldered shrug.

"I gots t'make ma presence known," she answers and she's channelling Santana. She does it on purpose because she knows it makes me smile. Who are we kidding, everything makes me smile. Except Joan ugly plastic mad cow Rivers. I shouldn't say that. No need to insult cows just because Joan Rivers is a bitch.

"You gonna invite me in? I gots presents an everythin," she says, squeezing the large brown paper bag she's hugging in one arm and waving the stack of DVDs she's holding in her other hand.

I narrow my eyes at her jokingly and move aside so she can come in, "Okay, but only because of the presents."

I close the door and raise myself on tiptoes as she slips her shoes off, trying to see inside the big bag, but I'm too short and decide to go for the direct approach, "What's in the bag, Nay?"

Naya grins at me as if she's proud of herself for something and then forces the DVDs into my hands to free up hers. Between the grasp on my phone and the DVDs that have been thrust into my possession, I lose hold on the blanket and it slips to the floor. Her arm halts its progress into the bag as she glances over me and rolls her eyes, "You sure get all dressed up for me, don'tcha."

"How was I suppose to know you were coming," I pout softly, hugging the objects in my arms closer to my chest and becoming very aware of how cool they are against me. I really need to start working on this modesty thing.

"Sorry, I thought that was implied being that I'm here on all the days of the week that end in 'day'," she answers smartly and she's about to pull whatever it is out of the bag when she stops with a sudden straight face and says, "Do you think I'm here too much?"

"We can worry about it when you start keeping a toothbrush here," I shrug, once again trying to peer into the bag. Damn my vertically challenged genes.

"My toothbrush _is_ here," Naya answers, "Remember, you bought me that red one so I wouldn't have to use yours."

"I thought mine was the red one," I say thoughtfully, temporarily forgetting about the bag, because seriously, I've always had the red toothbrush and that is definitely the one I've been using.

"No, you made that big fuss about having the purple one and then said that I need the red one because I'm smokin hot," she says, taking her hand out of the bag, empty, and fixing it to her hip. I have to admit that kind of does sound like something I said, maybe not the smoking hot part, but I probably did make a small fuss about having the purple one.

"I guess that explains why the purple one still looks brand new," I nod, "Have to say I'm relieved, I thought you weren't brushing your teeth. Now, can we get back to the more pressing matter of what you have concealed in the mysterious brown bag?"

"Organic wine," Naya grins, pulling a bottle from the bag to finally show me, "Two bottles, cause we both know one is never enough."

"So true," I agree with wide eyes and a slow nod.

"'Kay, you set up the DVD and I'll crack this baby open," Naya says excitedly and I hesitate for a moment, watching her go into my kitchen, knowingly open the correct door that holds the corkscrew, and then open the cupboard that houses my wine glasses. It looks like she lives here and it gives me warm fuzzy feelings watching her just know where everything is. It's comforting having her around, because I'm not the type of person who likes to spend long periods alone. I almost wish she would move in and be my roomie. The apartment is just too quiet with only Sheila and I. But could you imagine the scandal? The fans are still abuzz about the short period that Di and I lived together and that was a couple years ago now. My boyfriend and I break up and a few months later Naya moves in to my single bedroom apartment. The pap would have a field day.

* * *

I've chosen the scariest looking DVD cover and slid it into the player, curling up with my blanket on the couch as I wait for Naya to arrive with the wine. She's humming when she does, managing to balance two filled glasses in one hand and the bottle in the other. She's talented that way. I'm not talented like that. I have actually mastered the art of dropping very breakable objects or knocking them over. I blame it on two things, one is the Italian in me that requires me to talk with my hands and the other is my lack of control on my excitement. Either way, when I'm around, usually something breaks. I would've been a terrible waitress, so I thank god that I'm not one of those struggling actresses working in a diner.

I take one of the glasses being offered to me and she sets the bottle down on the coffee table before sitting next to me, giving me a mocking glare until I give up half the blanket I've almost cocooned myself in and let her huddle under it beside me. I only do it because I like to tease her, I'd much rather share the blanket with her and I know that it's not going to be long into the movie before I'm clutching at her with fright. I love scary movies and I love that feeling of being scared, but only when I've got someone to hold on to. Sheila doesn't put up with it anymore. I use to be able to watch the movies with her, but after locking her in an unintentional choke hold a few times too many, she's learned to recognize when a horror movie is coming on and dashes away.

Naya looks at the empty DVD case and rolls her eyes at me, "You know I still have your nail imprints in my thigh from the last horror movie."

"If you didn't like it, you wouldn't bring them," I throw back at her, because she's trying to hide a smile from me and pretend she doesn't enjoy it. She probably doesn't enjoy me tearing into her skin with my nails, but in my defence, I don't even know I'm doing it.

"I think you're just usin' it as an excuse to get all up on this," she says, one eyebrow raised as she accepts the challenge I offered.

"Please," I say, forcing a laugh and giving her a soft shove on the shoulder with my free hand, "I don't need an excuse, if I actually put the moves on you, you'd be like jelly in my perfectly manicured hands."

I'm smiling wide, waiting for her next retort, but it doesn't come. Instead, she's staring at me. Hard. From my eyes down to my lips and back up again, and I can feel that the mood in the room has grown heavy. I start feeling a little uneasy, like maybe I said something wrong, or took the joke too far, but I can't understand why because we always joke like this. Hell, we've joked far worse than this in the past, saying things that would make Howard Stern blush.

She moves her head towards mine slightly, her eyes now entirely focused on my lips and I've been in this situation enough times to know exactly what's going on. My head is buzzing like I've just polished off both bottles of wine on my own, but I've barely even taken a sip. I'm drunk on the moment. The possibilities. It's new and confusing, because I've never even considered Naya in this way before and the thought that she has, about me, sends my mind reeling. I never had a clue.

I don't know what the right thing to do is, if I'm suppose to stop her, but I'm too stunned to respond anyway. I start to wonder if I want this too. Maybe the thought has never crossed my mind, but does that make a difference? It's crossing my mind now and it makes me feel...

_Fuck_. All rational or even irrational thoughts leave my head when I hear the softest of moans escape her lips. We still haven't really touched, except where our legs are already meeting beneath the blanket, so I know the moan is purely from anticipation and that makes it even hotter. I want to moan back, something low and sexy, like you hear in the good porn movies (that oxymoron is not lost on me), I'm normally really good at those moans, but when I part my lips a high-pitched squeak escapes that is nowhere near sexy. I've reverted to Rachel Berry. Who knows, maybe Nay-Nay gets off on the innocent school girl fantasy. Except that I know that Naya's fantasies have always included a male partner. Do I know her at all?

She bites her bottom lip as she still moves closer so achingly slow, then lets out another sound that is less of a moan and more of a, "Mmmmmm."

I feel it across my lips and it vibrates all through my body, settling low in my nether regions which are beginning to get... sticky. My breathing is starting to get very shaky and the air I'm trying to inhale feels thick and hot, like trying to breathe in a room filled with smoke. My chest is so tight too, but I lose all concentration on my breathing when I feel fingertips brush teasingly against my knee. I jump at the sudden contact, because although that seems to be what we're working up to I'm still not prepared for actually feeling her. She covers my knee with her hand, over my sweats, over the blanket, but the heat from it burns through all that material and seers into my skin. She squeezes as she sighs against my lips, another sound that rips straight to my core, then slowly drags her hand up the outside of my thigh.

My lips are tingling and hers are so close that the only air we're inhaling is the air the other just exhaled and in someways I find that just as sexy as the sounds she's making. I can't take anymore of the anticipation, though, and my mind still hasn't had a chance to process what's going on or even decide whether I really want to take this step with my best friend, but if something doesn't happen soon I may need to throw away my favourite pair of sweatpants. And that is unacceptable.

Her lips have stopped moving towards mine and instead are hovering at such a close distance it's driving me insane. My lips move towards hers on their own, like I've lost all control and I just need to feel them against mine, know what they taste like. Her hand has made its way to my ass and she grips it tightly, causing a soft cry to escape me from the surprise as much as the sensation. The roughness of her grasp is a complete contrast to the sensual teasing she's been prolonging.

I'm so tightly wound that I don't even realize I have the collar of her t-shirt fisted in my hand and I'm pulling on it so hard I'm sure that it's stretched permanently. She's lucky I haven't ripped it off her yet. My eyes close on their own as I finally feel the slightest brush of her top lip on my bottom, but then it's gone before my mind has really let it sink in. Instead, she presses those lips to my ear, her hot breath warming me all over as she whispers in that low gravelly, sexy voice she has, "Now who's the jelly?"

It takes me a few seconds to register her words, because I will admit I have lost all coherent brain function and am one step away from a shaking mess in her arms. I will never actually admit that out loud of course, but she definitely got me good. I can't believe she convinced me, so easily, that she was about to pounce on me. What's even more unbelievable, not to mention unsettling, is how ready I was to give myself to her, one of my closest friends.

"I'm the jelly," I growl and push her away from me with a pout, "It's not nice to tease people. Especially sexually frustrated girls who haven't had sex in months."

Naya cuts from her giggles to give me a mildly shocked look as I say 'months' and I take a few gulps of my wine before turning back to the TV, that is still stuck on the DVD's menu screen, "So how about that movie?"

"You're exaggerating," she says, ignoring my feeble attempt at changing the subject.

"Oh come on, when was the last time you heard the latest adventure in Lea's sexcapades," I say pointedly, "I always tell you guys everything."

"You are queen of the over-share," she agrees thoughtfully, and then shrugs a moment later, "I still assumed you were gettin' your itch scratched somewhere."

I resist the urge to hold up a couple of my fingers, because even that hasn't happened in a long time. There was a certain downside to having Naya by my side all day and all night and even those trips I spent away from LA, I was either with Jon, too tired, or just imageless. When you masturbate, you need someone to think about, that image in your head that helps move it along, but I had nothing there. No fantasies, no thoughts of strong-armed men putting out fires, it was as if Theo took my sex drive with him when he left.

"Theo stole my sex drive," I answer and I'm partially joking, although I'm starting to believe it. I've always been a very sexual person. Even when Theo was living in New York we made it a point to have Skype sex nearly every night. But our relationship was falling apart for months before it finally ended, and our sex life became nonexistent in the last few. It was hard to have sex with your boyfriend when he's sleeping on the couch. His idea, not mine. It was also his idea that we not see each other anymore. I can't really blame him for it, no matter how much I want to. I was the one who became distant, married to my work, to the whole life. I don't party, do drugs or the other bad habits that most of young Hollywood is wrapped up in, but I spend all my time working. It isn't unheard of to work an eighteen hour day on set only to be expected in the studio after being given only four hours of sleep. I never complain, because I live for it. I'm living the dream and loving every minute of it. Theo couldn't be with someone who wasn't there for him. Someone who chose work over their relationship. I can't blame him for that. Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, or that I didn't cry myself to sleep every night for two straight weeks.

It got easier once Naya became my bunkmate. At first she stayed over on the couch a couple nights, giving me the excuse it was too late to go home, but I knew she was just worried about me. She heard me crying one night and slipped into my room, whispering "Oh Lee" in the gentlest voice that for some reason only made me cry harder. The next thing I knew she was in my bed with her arms wound tightly around me and I was sobbing into her shoulder as she repeated soothing words to calm me. We never talked about it the next day, but somehow we reached this silent understanding that at night, her place was in my bed. After that, the tears went away.

"Oh I think I just proved it's still there," she says with a chuckle, switching her wine glass to her right hand so she can throw an arm around my shoulders and pull me close to her side, "You're just not ready yet."

"Can we please start watching the movie before I start crying," I plead, already feeling the familiar sting in my eyes. It's been months since Theo and I broke up, but the wound still hasn't fully healed. I'm fine most of the time, but when I stop to think about it, about him, the sadness returns.

"You ready to get the shit scared out of you?"

* * *

Five minutes into the movie and our wine glasses have been forgotten on the coffee table. Ten minutes in and my fingernails are making new imprints in her thigh while hers are doing the same thing to my arm. Thirty minutes in we've jumped so high that I've found my way into her lap and she's holding my hand to her eyes, watching the movie through the spaces in between my fingers.

By the time the movie ends, we're absolutely terrified and I have red marks in the back of my hand that fit perfectly with the alignment of her teeth. I would complain, but she's got red marks on her neck from where my fingers may have clawed at her.

"Good movie," she whispers, keeping her eyes focused on the credits.

"I don't think I'm gonna sleep for weeks," I groan, detaching myself from her and falling onto the open seat on the couch beside her. I keep my legs stretched out on her lap and her hands settle on top of my knees as she nods her agreement.

"I don't think I'm ever going to sleep again," she sighs and finally tears her eyes away from the screen to glare at me, "Why do we do this to ourselves every night?"

I sit forward so that I can press my hand to her chest, right above her heart, feeling its strong quick beat against my hand. I take her hand and press it to mine so she can feel the pounding my own is doing.

"For this," I say, watching her eyes slowly find mine after being fixed on my chest, "The adrenaline. You gotta admit it's better than any drug."

"How would you know," she asks as I let go of her hand on my chest and I remove mine from her heart.

I don't. I've been to a lot of wild parties in the past, but alcohol is the only drug I've ever really indulged in. I've tried pot a few times, but never really enjoyed it. It makes me feel lazy and I prefer to be the opposite.

"I'm just guessing," I admit with a shrug, "Doesn't change the fact that it feels good."

"You're right," she smiles, pressing her hand to her own heart, "Feels pretty damn good."

I look over at the clock on my wall and realize it's after one in the morning. I'm glad that we don't have an early day on set tomorrow, but I still need to get to sleep soon if I want to be functional.

"We should still attempt sleep," I say, shifting my legs from her lap and onto the floor, lazily dragging myself to my feet.

"Yeah, I have a feeling that's not gonna be easy tonight," she says, turning off the TV and staring up at me with the hints of a pout.

I grab her hand and pull her up from the couch, keeping it in mine as I lead her to the bedroom and say jokingly, "Don't worry, I'll protect you from the monsters living under my bed."

"Ha fucking ha," she says, pretending to be annoyed as I leave her in the bedroom while I change in my attached bathroom.

I glance at myself in the mirror and am absolutely appalled by my appearance. My hair is a frizzy-fro knotted mess that cannot be ignored. I hate my hair and I thank god for the invention of straighteners everyday. It may look beautiful on TV and in magazines, but it takes a whole team of people to get it to look like that.

I plug in my straightener and brush my teeth while waiting for it to heat up, making sure to use the purple one this time. I'm not going to take the usual half hour it takes to straighten it perfectly, but just enough to make it decent.

It takes me fifteen minutes before I'm satisfied with my hair and then I slip off my sweats, leaving me in my boy shorts and tank top to sleep in, and discard the pants in a pile in the corner. I'm going to have to deal with laundry tomorrow at some point.

Naya's sitting on the bed when I come out, waiting for her turn in the bathroom, and she takes her overnight bag in with her as she goes. I crawl into my side of the bed and have just enough time to wrap myself in the blankets before Naya comes back out of the bathroom, dressed only in a pair of black boy shorts and matching black bra.

"I forgot my tank top," she sighs, heading towards my dresser and pausing beside it, "Do you mind?"

"Nope," I answer, my eyes drawn to the well defined muscles in her abdomen and the swell of her abundant breasts. I'm jealous of her body. There are parts of mine that I like better than hers, like my legs and my ass (although hers are nice too), but no matter how much I work out, I can't get my stomach to look as perfect as hers and my breasts will never be as large.

She opens the wrong drawer, which happens to hold my vast collection of panties, and picks up a lacy black and red thong.

"This is hot," she says, turning to face me and holding them against her boy shorts. Apparently her earlier prank hasn't worn off on me, because I can feel myself begin to flush as I picture her in my lacy thong.

"First drawer on the left," I say, covering my sudden arousal with a roll of my eyes and she chuckles as she puts my panties back in the drawer and searches out a tank top. She finds one, laying it on the top of the dresser as her hands reach behind her and release the hook on her bra. I roll over so that I can't see, even if her back is turned, I don't want to chance seeing any bit of her breasts. I'm wound too tightly and the last thing I need is to complicate my friendship with her. She's undeniably attractive and I'm open to the idea of being with a woman, even have in the past, but not Naya. She's a friend and the only reason I'm even thinking about this is because I just need to get laid.

"So what do you think," she asks and for a second I'm afraid she's been reading my mind. She's standing at the foot of the bed with her hands on her hips and I'm trying hard not to show that I notice my small tank top is stretching tightly across her breasts.

"What," is all I can manage, wondering if I had missed out on a conversation while I was desperately trying to curb my sudden spike in libido.

"You think we can survive the night with the light off," she asks and I'm inwardly kicking myself for all these stupid thoughts going through my mind.

"I think we'll be alright," I answer and she flicks the switch before leaping onto the bed beside me and settling in under the covers.

"You really did look smokin' in that dress last night," Naya whispers, breaking the silence that had fallen for the past five minutes, "Joan Rivers doesn't know what she's talking about. None of them do. And you definitely have the body to be sexy."

The words make me smile and I shuffle closer to her, until I'm curled against her side, "Thanks Nay-Nay."

* * *

Thirty minutes later and I'm still wide awake. My brain won't turn off and I can't get Naya's prank on me off my mind. It's the most action I've had in months and my body is still tingling from it. It doesn't help that I'm quite uncomfortable. I've always enjoyed sleeping naked, but with Naya here, I've been forced to wear clothes. It may not appear to be much, boy shorts and a tank top, but to me I may as well be wearing a parka. As big as I am on fashion, what I really love is to wear nothing at all. Even if I could just take off my top I would feel so much better.

I wonder if I could take off my top without Naya noticing. She's probably asleep anyway and if I move really slow and keep the blankets against my chin, she'll never know the difference. My fingers are gripping at the hem of my top as I continue to debate the idea in my head, knowing that I will be able to sleep so much easier if the top half of me isn't obstructed by my shirt.

"Just do it," Naya grumbles and I freeze in place, wondering how the hell she knew what I was thinking. Was I just thinking it, or did I start talking out loud?

"Really," I ask, once I realize that she has just given me permission to take my shirt off.

"Yeah," she says rolling onto her side, facing me, but keeping her eyes closed, "I've been thinking about doing the same thing."

Naya wants to take her shirt off too?

"Wouldn't that be weird," I say, thinking about us both taking off our shirts and wondering if I would have the willpower to stop myself from turning things sexual. In my current state, I wouldn't put money on it.

"I would feel better if you did," she says, opening her eyes sleepily and the moon is bright enough so I can see her clearly.

"You want me to," _well that seems a little weird_. Maybe her prank has had an effect on her too.

"I'm too lazy to do it myself," she answers and now I'm thinking about Naya taking my shirt off me, with her on top of me, making those same sounds I heard earlier, and my shorts are suddenly wet again.

"I want you to do it for me," I whisper, before I even realize I'm saying it or give myself the time to go over the pros and cons in my head. This is such a terrible idea. I don't know what I would do if things went badly and I lost one of my closest friends. And we work together.

She lets out a soft sigh and I close my eyes as I feel her fingers brush against my hip, somehow managing to keep in the moan that her touch is creating.

"Maybe we should just leave it," she says, her hand flattening against my stomach before dragging across to curl against my side. The weight of her arm feels good on top of me, holding me against her, but her words are disappointing. I need this, I need her, right now. I'm not going to let it slip away because I would rather she rip my shirt off me than me take it off myself.

"No, I'll do it," I say quickly, but notice her arm is resting over top of my shirt and I can't take it off with it there, "But you'll have to move your arm."

"Can I put it back," she asks, moving her head from her pillow to share mine and I can feel the entire length of her body press against my side.

"Yes," I smile and she takes her arm off me.

I sit up, gripping the bottom of my tank top when she says, "Then hurry up and turn on the light."

My hands fall from my shirt, confused. She wants to do it with the lights on? Not that I'm opposed. I'm comfortable enough with my body and I wouldn't mind the chance to admire hers, but I've never actually been told to get out of bed to turn on the light before having sex with someone.

"You want to do it with the lights on," I ask because I feel the need to clarify the situation and I'm having a real hard time understanding what's going on. Months of her sleeping beside me and not once did anything remotely sexual come from it, not even a single impure thought. Suddenly, tonight, my hormones are working on overdrive and coincidentally hers are too? I'm starting to feel like I've entered The Twilight Zone.

Naya gives me a crooked smile and raises an eyebrow as she says, "If by _do it_ you mean cuddle while sleeping with the lights on, then hells yeah. I can't get that creepy little girl's slashed up face out of my head."

I replay our conversation in my mind and within seconds I realize she was talking about the lights the entire time. I must've been fidgeting or something while trying to decide whether to take my shirt off or not and she assumed I was having trouble sleeping in the dark.

"You alright, Mama," she asks, her hand reaching up and giving my shoulder a squeeze.

"Sure," I nod, moving my legs to swing over the side of the bed and I notice how wet I am. If I get up and turn on the light, there's a very good chance she's going to see the obvious wet spot on my shorts and as much as I would love to embarrass myself and make things awkward between us, I actually really wouldn't. I lay back down and turn onto my side, facing away from her, and I reach behind me, taking her arm and pulling it tightly around me. She presses herself flush against my back, burying her face in my hair, and I try to ignore how good this is making me feel as I whisper, "I think we can get through this with the lights off. If you get scared, you can just hold me tighter."

I feel her arm tighten around me for a moment before loosening again and the soft sigh that she makes raises every little hair on my body. She tucks her fingers beneath my side, locking me in her embrace, and I let out a sigh of my own. She calms me every night. Protecting me from my insecurities and chasing away my nightmares. It's been a strange night and if I try to dissect it and think about what it all really means I'm going to drive myself crazy.

It's a strange night. Tomorrow's a new day. Everything looks a lot more clear after the sun chases away the shadows.


	2. Chapter 2

Life carries on as usual and it seems like my temporary lapse in judgement is exactly that, temporary. I don't know what it was about that night that made me feel like a cat in heat, but it disappears as quickly as it comes and my feelings for Naya remain entirely platonic. Almost.

I continue to wrap myself up in my work during the day and Naya and I continue our horror movie marathons almost every night. Some days work carries on too long for us to be functional after work hours, but she still comes over and we collapse, completely exhausted, into bed together.

The way we sleep seems to have changed a little, though. We've started... cuddling, every night. I mean it's not like we've never done it before, but in the past it had always started because I was crying and she was comforting me. Ever since that night, though, it's become regular. I turn onto my side as Naya gets into bed, always the second one to have her turn in the bathroom, and she presses herself against my back and wraps her arm around me tightly. I don't want to question it because I actually really like it and I really don't want to think about the reasons why I enjoy it so much. We don't break apart through the night, either. When we wake up in the mornings her arm is still around me and I can still feel the length of her body behind me. Sometimes her cheek is pressed against the back of my neck and sometimes her nose is in my hair.

A couple nights ago I woke up to find that I had turned in my sleep with half my back on the bed and the other laying on top of Naya, with my shoulder lodged in between her breasts. Her face was buried in the side of my neck with her lips pressed against my skin, but what was most alarming was that my camisole had somehow ridden up while sleeping, so high that my right breast was exposed and her hand was resting on the underside of it. Well, if things couldn't get worse, our legs had also tangled together and one of hers was in between mine with her thigh pressing against my... lady parts. And god I was so fucking wet that I knew I was all over her thigh. I could freaking smell myself. Luckily she was still asleep and I managed to gently nudge her hand down until it was on my stomach, but I didn't want to risk waking her up so I left it there. At least I was able to push my shirt over my breast and make myself decent.

All my attempts to move her thigh backfired horribly, and instead caused more friction between my legs, making me painfully aware of how close I was to... getting off... on her leg. On my last attempt at dislodging her thigh it managed to rub me in exactly the right way, or wrong way I should say, and I literally had to bite my tongue and focus on that pain to keep myself from tumbling over the edge. So I gave up on that effort and instead focused all my energy towards picturing the most gruesome images I could imagine to coil my arousal. It worked enough to pull me back from the verge of orgasm, but not near enough to eliminate my arousal all together.

But then something even weirder happened. She shifted in her sleep, rolling over until I was completely on my back, with half her body now on top of mine and while her thigh was still in an awkward place for me, mine was suddenly in the same place for her. She moaned. It was really quiet, but her lips were still pressed against my neck and I felt the sound vibrate through my entire body. Even crazier, she was just as wet as I was.

I know I shouldn't have, but I felt compelled to do it, and before I really thought about how bad of a position I could get myself into, I was already moving my thigh against her. I felt her whole body shudder against me, her nails dug into my stomach and her teeth sunk down into my neck, scaring the fuck out of me, and my hands reflexively grabbed at her while I may have moaned... loudly. My neck is my weak spot, okay.

That definitely woke her up, but she was so startled, she didn't seem to be exactly sure what had woke her. Thank freaking god.

I covered it up by telling her I had a bad dream and she sleepily pressed a kiss to my forehead before sliding onto the bed beside me and returning to our previous cuddling position, with me on my side and her arm around me.

I couldn't fall back asleep after that and my mind began to race with a million different thoughts. A new fear began to settle into my head that I couldn't ignore. I started to worry about the day when Naya decides I don't need her anymore, or she starts dating, whichever comes first. I know that I will never tell her to leave, I've grown accustomed to having her with me, but I'm sure that she's only staying for me. Then I'll be alone again.

Three hours I stayed awake, until my alarm went off at five and we had to get up for work. I let Naya have the bathroom first and decided to make a huge pot of coffee instead, leaning against the counter miserably and gulping down two large mugs while she showered. Not only was I exhausted from sleep deprivation, but I was also mentally drained thanks to the misplacement of the off switch to my brain.

When I heard the shower stop, I went back into my room, gathered my clothes in my arms and waited patiently by the door for my turn in the shower. The apartment has two bathrooms, but unfortunately the other is a half, meaning the only bathtub and shower are adjoined with the master bedroom.

She opened the door and her eyes were instantly drawn to my neck, her eyes widening before she quickly brushed past me without a word. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and there, on my neck, were unmistakable red markings that fit perfectly with her teeth alignment.

Maybe she had thought it was a dream. Whatever the case, she knew. We didn't talk about it, in fact, we didn't really talk at all after that. She also hasn't been over since.

* * *

The day before the SAG awards, Dianna calls me up and invites me to a girl's day at the beach. When she picks me up in the morning I discover two things, one is that we're the only two girls going to the beach (I was kind of expecting Naya and Hemo to be coming too), and two it's apparently not girls only because she's brought a male with her. Of course that male is Arthur, so I'm more than happy with both discoveries. I've missed my favourite puppy and I've especially missed alone time with my bestest girlfriend.

"So how's my lady," she asks after we've settled down onto our towels in the sun. Arthur is lying between us on his back, panting happily as I scratch his belly.

My eyes drift down between Dianna's legs and I raise an eyebrow, "I don't know, how _is_ your lady? Taken any poundings lately?"

She blushes as she crosses her legs, moving her sunglasses to the tip of her nose so she can properly glare at me. I love to tease and Dianna is the most fun because it never takes much to get a blush out of her. She makes a sort of humming sound that signifies that's the only answer I will be getting, as she pushes her sunglasses back in place and folds her hands behind her head.

"I'm okay," I say, staring down at Arthur's blissful face as I continue to scratch his belly. I wish the smallest of things could make me that happy too. Not that I'm not happy, I'm just a little... blah lately. I miss Naya.

"You've been spending a lot of time with Naya," she says and it's in a tone that I can't quite read. I'm also not sure what she's looking for in an answer. Everyone knows that Naya's practically moved into my apartment, it's not like it's a secret, so I don't know her motives for bringing it up. Maybe she doesn't have any. Maybe I'm just over thinking things because I am still a little weirded out by everything that's happened.

"Jealous," I chuckle, drawing out the word longer than necessary and watch as her lips curl into a cute smile.

"Very," she answers in a low, husky voice. She's acting. Just continuing on with the rouse I created. "I don't know, I'm just worried about you."

"You think she's going to hurt me," how does she know what happened that night on the couch or the other night in bed? And I don't have feelings for Naya so why is she even bringing it up? Did Naya say something to her? Does Naya have feelings for me and she talked to her about it and now Dianna is coming to me about it? Or is Naya worried that I have feelings for her and she told Dianna that she doesn't have the same feelings and she doesn't know how to tell me? Except I don't have feelings for her. Also, how many cups of coffee have I already had this morning?

Dianna turns her head towards me and she removes her sunglasses so I can see the confused expression she's wearing, "Okay, I'm going to skip over the sentence that doesn't make sense and say, I'm worried about you because I know you're still adjusting to life without Theo. That's why Naya's there all the time, right? Because you're having trouble with the alone part?"

Way to not jump to conclusions and sound like a crazy person, Lea. Bravo.

"Right," I say, sighing as I shake my head for how insane my thought process has been going lately, "I like having her there, it makes things... less sad."

"You don't have to remind me about how terrible you are at being on your own," she says and then laughs lightly, "You're the most independent person I know who can't be on their own. I didn't even know that was possible until I met you."

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment," I laugh and she rolls onto her side so she can scratch the spot underneath Arthur's chin. Lucky dog has got the attention of two girls, a position I'm sure a lot of males wish they were in.

"Did you know that sea otters hold hands while they sleep so that they don't drift away," she says, her attention focused entirely on Arthur and that beautiful little smile she has is still playing on her lips.

I watch her for a moment because she's got that far away look that she gets sometimes, like she's here, but not really. It's hard to explain until you've seen it.

"You know I do," I say, because we both know she's told me that before. One night when we still lived together, we had both drunk far too much wine and we were slowly losing consciousness on my bed, she told me that and that sometimes she was afraid she would drift away. I told her that it would never happen because I would always be there to hold her hand and keep her grounded. I would never let her drift away. It was a seriously mushy moment. Then we confessed our love for each other, ran away to Canada and got hitched in secret and adopted African babies.

Psyche. Okay, okay, but the mushy moment did actually happen.

She slowly glances around the crowded beach, and the motion makes me do the same, wondering what she's looking for, and while my eyes are trying to figure it out, I feel her fingers interlace with mine against Arthur's stomach. When I look back up at her, her eyes are intense and focused solely on mine.

"I'll never let you drift away," she says, her face so serious for a moment, before she gives my hand a quick squeeze and lets go. The usual smile returns to her lips after and her attention is back on Arthur and for a moment I'm left just staring at her and wondering if I could ever love anyone as much as I love her.

It's not what you think. As much as the world wants to believe we're having a secret hot lesbian relationship, it isn't so. I'm definitely in love with her and she's in love with me and we have the most intense relationship you could imagine, but it's not physical. We have this emotional and mental bond that makes me feel more like we're twins than lovers.

She is gay, though, and not afraid to come out. She tried during the Glee tour, but was forced back into the closet once the Fox PR people found out about it. Apparently she's not allowed to be who she really is until she's released from her contract. I know she struggles with that everyday because she's not the type of person to hide who she is. She's much stronger than I am in every respect and I admire her a lot.

"I love you, you know," I whisper, just loud enough for her and Arthur to hear, because the last thing we need is for someone to overhear that. The grin that she bears makes me want to tackle hug her because it's too adorable for anyone to have the rights to. Dianna has this amazing ability to be a wise old soul one minute and then an innocent and playful little girl the next.

"You should tell Naya," she says, and the smile is still on her face even if she isn't looking at me.

"That I love you? Pretty sure she's aware," I answer, crinkling my nose as Arthur begins to lick at my thumb.

"That you're in love with her," Dianna says and she's not even looking at me, like what she just said was completely normal and nothing out of the ordinary.

Every muscle in my body tenses and I stare back at her, because seriously where the fuck did that come from. Apparently the freaking out I've been doing in my head isn't all for nothing. But how does she know? Has Naya talked to her? I can't immediately cop to it though, because she could be fishing. It wouldn't be the first time she's pretended to have information only to turn out to be bluffing.

After about a minute, I realize that the nervous laughter I'm trying to use to cover the truth is actually only in my head, and I still haven't moved or made a sound in a very long minute. I clear my throat and force out a short laugh, making use of all my best acting skills as I say, "Why would you think that?"

Okay, not quite what I meant to say. I was going more along the lines of 'don't be ridiculous', but at least I still didn't admit to it. I can't admit to it because I don't have feelings for her!

"I can read your mind," she shrugs, like I'm suppose to be alright with that response. Her eyes meet mine and for a moment she stares at me, hard, then relaxes and says, "You're thinking that if I know, then the entire cast might have picked up on it too."

That may have crossed my mind for a moment, but please, I could guess that too.

"Now you're worried that if anyone else knows, Naya's probably picked up on it, and you're wondering if that's why she hasn't come over the past couple nights. You're afraid she's avoiding you because she knows," she says, and she's still absently stroking Arthur, watching as his tongue slips out to wet his nose every time she gently taps her finger on it.

That may have been what I was thinking, but it really didn't take a mind reader to know that. Dianna knows me so well and she knows how my mind works, it's not that big of a stretch for her to be able to guess what I'm thinking now. I'm a little thrown by the part about being worried about Naya avoiding me though. It's been on my mind because she hasn't shown up the past couple nights and we haven't talked much either. I keep trying to tell myself that she's just busy getting herself ready for the SAG awards and with work and her new album, but still. I'm worried.

I hear my phone chime from inside my beach bag and I dig around in my bag until I find it.

"That's Naya texting you. She wants to know if you want to have a spa date with her later on today," Dianna says, matter-of-factly, a knowing smile on her lips as she lays back on her towel and closes her eyes.

I press the button on my phone and my screen displays my new text message.

_Naya Rivera_

_Hey Mama, wat do u say to a lil R&R later? Need 2 look our best when we win all the awards._

Holy mother of god, Dianna Agron is a mind reader. Why the hell didn't she tell me this before? Could've come in real handy that time I thought Cory had a crush on me and instead I found out he was just being extra nice because he broke the DVD player in my trailer. It was so much fun to sit him down and tell him in my sweetest voice ever that I really liked him and that he was such a great guy, but I just didn't have those feelings for him, and then have him burst out laughing. He's never going to let me live that one down.

But back to the far more important matter of...

"I can't read minds, silly," Dianna says, in between fits of giggles, and I can feel my cheeks grow hot in embarrassment, "Naya told me this morning she was going to invite you to the spa today. It was a lucky guess, Lea."

"Oh," I say and temporarily distract myself by sending a text back to Naya that lets her know I would love some spa time with her.

"Alright, my dear," Dianna says, after a long silence has fallen between us, "Spill it."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I lie, I know it's useless, she's not going to give up until I tell her what's going on, and really she's the best person to talk to about this. I know she'll keep it to herself and give me the best advice.

She gives me a look that says, are we really going to play this game? I cave.

"It's silly, really," I say, because I really don't even know how to put it into words. I don't have feelings for Naya, really. All crazy Lea thinking aside, it's the truth. I don't watch her sleep and wonder what it would be like to kiss her or catch myself staring at her when we're working, unless it's because I'm blown away by her voice, but everyone is. I think she's very attractive, she's got an amazing personality and anyone she goes on a date with better thank their lucky stars that she's giving them the time of day, but... It's Naya.

I chew on my lip for a moment as I think about how much I want to tell her and then say, "Naya played a little prank on me a couple weeks ago and we got a little close. It made me realize-"

"That you're in love with her," Dianna says, interrupting me before I can finish my sentence.

I study her actions briefly before I ask, "Do you really believe that?"

Her eyes finally meet mine and they're soft, adding a slow blink, giving me a lopsided smile as she says, "No."

I nod and take a deep breath, deciding to continue my story where I had left off, "It made me realize how much I miss being with someone. Intimately. Kissing and cuddling and fucking. You know me, I'm relationship girl. I'd rather be in one than not and I'm so use to having Theo there and now he's not. But Naya is and I think I'm unintentionally replacing him with her."

"Would it be so bad," she asks, tucking a lock of short blonde hair behind her ear before returning her hand to Arthur.

"What," I ask, because I'm confused about what exactly she's asking.

"Replacing Theo with Naya," she explains.

"Di...," I warn, letting the sound of her nickname trail off as I let her know that I'm weary of the subject.

"Just hear me out," she says, holding up a hand to stop me from adding anything else, "So this situation happens and you feel something in the moment that scares you because you've always looked at her this certain way and then for a brief second you felt something completely different. You take a step back and you're like, wait a minute, what just happened? Right? It forces you to think about how you really feel towards her and if maybe deep down you actually really like her more than a friend, but in the end, you come to the conclusion that it really was just a momentary thing. But, when you were trying to sort out your deeper feelings, did you do it with an open mind, or were you thinking about all the reasons why you can't and shouldn't like her?"

Once again, I'm lost and I blink at her before curling one side of my lip upwards, "Huh?"

"You work with her," she continues, "she's one of your closest friends, you two have all the same friends and if it didn't work between you there would definitely be some fallout. Plus your contract binds you from having relationships with girls because it's bad for your image, or so they say, so going out with her in public would be very difficult. You thought of all the reasons why you can't possibly have feelings for her, but did you consider the reasons why you might?

"She's beautiful, talented, hilarious, loving, kind and on and on and on. She's been there for you every day since Theo left, bringing you food and coffee and movies and her company. We both know that you would be a mess without her. She doesn't do it because she has to, she does it because she wants to and I have to say, you both have seemed a lot perkier since you started spending time together. Everything happens for a reason. What if your relationship with Theo ended so this relationship with Naya could start?

"You've been so concerned with all the problems that could arise if a relationship with Naya didn't work that I don't think you've considered what you would gain if it did work. Besides, you guys would make such a lovely couple and I would love to be able to wear a yellow dress as your maid of honour."

I'm speechless and if you don't know me, that's very rare. I hate it when she's all intuitive and wise. She's always there to tell me what I need to hear and not what I want to hear. She's right. I haven't really thought about if I have feelings for Naya, I just told myself I couldn't because of the inconvenience it would be if I did. I never weighed the pros and cons, I listed the cons and decided that it could cost too much.

So if I think about it, really think about it, do I have feelings for Naya?

I don't know.

It looks like I am really going to have to dissect my feelings for her after all. Fuck.

But more importantly...

"You're forgetting one very important problem," I say as the thought dons on me.

"What's that," she says, sitting up and turning herself until she's facing me.

"She may play a lesbian on Glee, but it's an act. We both know Naya is all about the guys," I say and I can't control the bitterness that sounds in my voice.

"Do we," Dianna challenges with that knowing smirk, "Maybe she's Leasexual."

"Shut up," I giggle, because the way she says 'Leasexual' sounds so dirty I can't help but laugh at it.

She continues to stare at me with her amused smile for a moment longer before shrugging, "I think she's been spending an awful lot of time with you, enough time to raise some questions about whether her motives are friendly or something more. Perhaps this prank was a way to show you she was interested without having to put her feelings at risk."

"What if it wasn't though," I answer, I need to stay objective so that I don't get a big head about this, and why would she be acting like she's avoiding me lately if it wasn't because she thinks I have feelings for her, "What if it was just a prank and I come to her with these feelings and completely freak her out? I don't want to lose her as a friend."

"I'm pretty sure you could tell Naya you were into human sacrifice and she'd still stick by you," Dianna says, her nose wrinkling as she smiles, "Things might be a little weird between you two for a few days, but you've been friends for four years, do you really think she would end it over this? Would you if the roles were reversed?"

"Of course not," I say. I wasn't going to end my friendship with Cory when I thought he liked me, why would I ever end a friendship because of something like that?

"Exactly," she says with a firm nod, because she's proved her point.

"I still don't know if I have feelings for her," I say, because I don't and I don't want her thinking that all this talk means that I do.

"I know," she says, "But you need to take some time and to really figure that out."

"I'll make you a deal," I offer and she raises an eyebrow in curiosity, "If I agree to work out my feelings and talk to Naya, you have to help me convince Hemo to let us pick out her next dress for a public appearance."

"You saw her SAG dress, huh," she says, her nose wrinkling again in disgust.

"Oh my god, yes," I almost shout, sticking my tongue out in a mock gag, "She's definitely going to be labelled 'worst dressed' on Fashion Police."

"You need to stop watching that show," she says, rolling her eyes, "But you have a deal."

* * *

Naya picks me up later that afternoon, after I've returned from the beach, and things are still noticeably awkward.

"Are we okay," I ask, when we're in the car, halfway to the spa and we've spent most of it in silence.

She takes a quick glance at me before her eyes are forced to return back to the road and says, "What do you mean?"

"We haven't talked and you haven't been over," I say, my eyes falling to my lap where my fingers are fidgeting. I'm not normally a nervous person, but this is one of those conversations that nobody wants to have.

"I've been busy, you know my album and work," she says with a shrug, her eyes focused on the red light we're stopped at.

"Bull," I whisper, because even though they're the excuses I've been playing in my head, I know they can't be the real reason. She no busier than usual and she always finds time to text me and even those nights when she has to stay at the studio extra late, she either texts me to tell me she can't come over, or asks if it's too late to come.

She sighs, heavy and I prepare myself for what I've been dreading to hear.

"It's not you," she says, and it's not what I was expecting to hear so my eyes immediately snap to her, "I thought you were avoiding me."

"What," I say, and I'm so confused. I have no idea why she would think I would be avoiding her, "Why would you think that?"

"I don't know," she says with another heavy sigh, "I figured you thought I was some kind of weirdo who likes to bite people or something. Like I seriously don't even remember doing it, Lea, I swear. But then after that, you totally stopped talking to me or texting me. So I figured you were like, afraid I'd do it again or something."

I'm half aware that my mouth has dropped open in shock, but I can't do anything to rectify it. So she doesn't actually remember what happened. I really wish I had this information a lot earlier.

"Oh," I finally manage to say, once the shock has finally worn off and then I break out into uncontrollable giggles. The whole situation just seems completely hilarious now. I'm avoiding her because I'm afraid she thinks I have feelings for her and she's avoiding me because she thinks I'm afraid she wants to eat me in my sleep. I didn't put that last part right.

"What's so funny," she asks, a smile on her face as she watches me practically doubling over laughing.

I try to compose myself, because I really can't tell her the reason I find everything so funny, I can't tell her about the feelings thing because I still haven't had a chance to figure that out for myself. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, managing to get control of myself and shake my head, "I think you're avoiding me and you think I'm avoiding you and we end up avoiding each other."

"We are so lame," she chuckles, pulling into a parking space at the spa, "but I am so glad that's over."

"Me too," I agree, reaching over and giving her knee a squeeze, "So that means you're coming back to my place after, right?"

* * *

The next morning we lie in bed together for hours, because we can. It's a lazy Sunday morning and we have nowhere that we have to be until 12:30, when we get to be attacked by hair and makeup people. So we lay there and talk about how excited we are for the day, to get all dressed up and be around all the most famous people in Hollywood. It's still like a dream to both of us. It's so surreal to be sitting just tables away from legends like Meryl Streep and George Clooney.

"I can't believe you won't show me what you're wearing," Naya yawns, stretching her arms above her head, while I do my best to not check out the way her breasts are protruding from the way she's arching her back.

"You won't show me either," I counter, tearing my eyes away and staring up at the ceiling.

"Only because you wouldn't show me first," she laughs, rolling towards me onto her side and propping her head up with her hand.

I don't really know why I'm keeping it from her. I have this super gorgeous Versace gown that is going to make everyone flip and ugly ass Joan Rivers eat her fucking words, but I think I've shown everyone except Naya. I guess I want to see the shock on her face when she sees how hot I look. Did that just sound gay?

I still haven't sorted out my feelings, obviously.

"Jon's gonna stay over tonight after the awards," I say, not just so that I can change the subject, but I also figure I should warn her that we won't be alone tonight.

"Oh," she says, and she sounds really disappointed. Weird.

"Hey, don't worry," I say, while putting on my most devious and playful smile, "He can take the couch, or we can all share the bed and I could be the jelly. I like being the jelly."

"No," she says with a shrug and she's trying to pretend she doesn't care, "I'm just gonna stay at my place tonight."

"What," I ask and I'm so thrown back by her words I actually feel myself sink lower into the bed, "Why?"

She rolls her eyes and sits up, "It's cool. I know you don't get to see Jon very often and I don't want to be the third wheel."

"You won't be," I say and I'm a little worried about how upset I am facing a night without Naya, "And if you're so alright with it then why do you look so sad?"

"I just thought we would go out and get drunk and then come back here and laugh about all the funny moments and gossip about all the stars we meet," she sighs then lifts herself onto her knees and moves to get up off the bed.

I catch her wrist before she's made it to the edge of the bed and yank her back down, forcing her to sit, "We can still do that. I don't understand, since when do you and Jon not get along?"

"We do," she says and she refuses to look at me as she speaks, "I like him, it's just... When Jon's around, it's like he's the only person you can see. He gets all your attention and you ignore everyone else."

She's jealous of him? That's what this is about? I mean, lots of my boyfriends have been jealous of my relationship with him, not because it's sexual (duh, I'm missing an appendage), but we've always had a bond that can't ever be broken. I even understand why my partners would be jealous of it, because I could never have the same connection with them as I do with him. Doesn't mean the connection I have with my partners is any less important, it's just different. But Naya's not my partner, and I know we've been pretty inseparable lately, but it still seems strange that she would be jealous. And I'm trying to include her. I don't want her to go to her place tonight. I would rather kick Jon to the couch and spend another night in Naya's arms! I think that may have sounded a little gay.

"So," I say, rising to my knees and sitting behind her, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and leaning my chin on her shoulder, "If you think I'm ignoring you, then do something to grab my attention."

She lets out a short puff of air through her nose, shaking her head before leaning it back against me and staring up at the ceiling. I can see it in her face that I have her, so I go in and seal the deal, "I want you here Nay. I need you here."

"Fine," she sighs and I'm so excited that I've won this battle that I let out a little shriek of happiness and give her a kiss on the cheek. She's shaking her head again, but this time, she's smiling as she watches the joy light up my face. My cheeks are already hurting from how big I'm smiling, but I can't stop. Her smile relaxes as her eyes raise to my forehead, or my bangs, I can't tell, then move down the side of my face and stop on the mole on my cheek. Her eyes stay there for a moment before her hand reaches up to cup the other side of my face and she presses a soft kiss to my mole.

Even after her lips disappear, her forehead stays pressed to my temple and I can't be sure, because it's so quiet, but it sounds like she whispers, "I don't want this to end."

I'm about to ask her what she said, but then she's already slipped from my arms and is getting off the bed.

"Hey," I pout, watching her walk around to the foot of the bed, "Where are you going?"

She points to the clock and says, "We both have to be showered and out of here in an hour and a half."

I bite my lip so I don't accidentally say the words that immediately pop into my mind.

_Let's shower together_.

_That_ definitely sounds a bit gay.


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing I do when I step out of the limo into the crowd of people at the entrance to the SAG red carpet, is text Naya to find out where she is. I want to see her before the night sweeps us up and we get lost in all the flashes and microphones being thrust in our faces. To be honest, I'm not really feeling the interviews tonight and will likely walk past them, but I will never miss an opportunity to flaunt myself on the carpet. Especially tonight. I fucking _know_ how gorgeous I look. It helped that Jon wouldn't shut up about it throughout the entire drive. I love him. Like seriously, if he wasn't gay, we would be married with baby Groff-Sarfatis by now. Living in the house my dad keeps trying to buy for him to marry me.

It only takes her a few seconds to text me back, I already knew from her tweets that she was on her way (I may have planned it like that), and lets me know she's in the line of limos arriving, about two away from the entrance.

"Are you ready to dazzle," Jon asks, grinning as he offers his arm to me, like the true gentlemen he is (even if he's a gentlemen meant for other gentlemen).

I take his arm, but only let him lead us out of the direct way of traffic before saying, "Naya's almost here, I just want to wait for her."

Jon gives me a nod, used to following my lead, and stands up straight, looking into the crowd of people from one face to the next. He's looking for a boytoy. He's got his flirty look on and I try not to giggle as I turn my attention to the people getting out of the next limo. Unfortunately, I don't recognize them and they're definitely not Naya.

I feel pretty anxious, which I'm aware is crazy, because I'm not anxious about the awards or meeting these Hollywood mega stars, but about seeing Naya. Or more accurately, about her seeing me. I start to feel a bit silly just standing there and not interacting with the crowds of people around me. I don't know any of them, but it feels like everyone's watching me and wondering why I haven't moved. I'm sure I'm probably just being paranoid. If they are looking at me it's likely because of how amazing I look. Because I look amazing. I think so anyway. Oh crap, my self confidence is dwindling.

"Do I look okay," I ask Jon, squeezing his arm as I take another self conscious glance down at myself. My eyes return to his face in time to see him rolling his eyes.

"Seriously, Lea," he says and he has that token gay boy sound to his voice. I wonder if they're all just born with that tone or if they have to practice it, "How many times have I told you how incredibly stunning you look? Do I seriously need to say it again?"

I bite my lip, but just stare back at him, waiting for him to say it again. I need to hear it. Maybe it's because I've been beat down by people like Joan Rivers so many times in my life, or maybe I just thrive on compliments, but whatever the reason, I need him to tell me again.

He shakes his head with his huge boyish grin and says, "You look fa-bu-lous. Obviously I am the luckiest man here to have the privilege of having such a jaw-dropping enchanting goddess on my arm."

I feel my body relax slightly and smile, snuggling closer to him as I whisper, "Thank you."

"Speaking of stunning," Jon says, looking over my head towards the line of limos, but he lets the sentence hang and doesn't finish it.

My eyes follow his to see Naya stepping out of a limo and stunning doesn't even begin to cover it. If I didn't know any better I would think I was looking at an angel, or royalty at the very least. I'm aware I'm gaping at her and I really couldn't give a damn, unable to take my eyes off her as she takes a couple steps forwards and begins looking around the crowd. I hope that she's looking for me, but I don't wait for her to spot me. Instead, I'm dragging Jon roughly by the arm and doing my best to not make a mad dash towards her. The last thing I need is for tomorrow's headlines to read "Glee Star Falls for her Costar, Literally". It's fucking hard though.

"Oh my god, you look so gorgeous," I say after I've closed the distance between us. My voice is shrill, a few octaves higher than usual, and I'm painfully aware, but when I'm this excited there's nothing I can do, "Look at your dress, your hair! Oh my god!"

She's got the biggest smile and the fact that she looks that genuinely happy makes her even more beautiful and seriously I cannot get a handle on myself. I've already forgotten that I wasn't telling her what I was wearing because I wanted the 'wow' factor from her.

I'm reminded a second later when Naya's eyes take me all in, nearly bulging out of her face at where the slit in my dress begins and all the leg I'm scantily showing off.

"Lea," she breathes while pressing a hand to her chest (which I would like to add is bare because of the super low, super sexy, plunging neckline of her dress... so much cleavage.. so... much), "Wow."

I was expecting her to say a little more than that, but she truly looks like she can't formulate words right now and that's even better than anything she could've said.

"You look hot, Lea," I hear a man's voice from beside Naya and I finally tear my eyes away from her to find one of our writers, Matt, standing beside her.

I don't mean to look disappointed, but I realize that she's brought him as her date and now I find that I'm the jealous one. At least the date I brought is gay and not interested in me sexually in the slightest (unfortunately). Everyone knows Matt has a crush on Naya. My heart feels like it's sinking, down low into my stomach, and I start to feel like I'm going to be sick. It's stupid. I can't even understand what I'm so upset about. Except that, if she starts dating, that means less nights she'll be sleeping with me.

"Are you okay," Naya says, her eyebrows knit together with concern and I realize that this is not the time to breakdown, I can do that later if I need to. Right now, it's show face time.

I blink and then smile back at her as bright as I can, "I'm fantastic! You ready to rock this red carpet?"

"Joan Rivers is gona flip her shit," Naya says with a smile and a soft shake of her head as her eyes once again travel up and down my body.

"I know, right," and I basically bounce up and down like an excited little girl, but I can't help it. Joan Rivers is going to have to compliment me tomorrow on her stupid show whether she wants to or not.

* * *

I soon discover that Naya and I aren't even seated at the same table, which is really upsetting. After we're seated, we barely even have a chance to talk to each other, except for a few very brief words during commercial breaks, but even then we spend most of that time mingling with other stars. I glance over at her a few times during the ceremony and almost every time I catch her already looking at me. Her eyes would either quickly look away, as if pretending she wasn't looking, or sometimes she'd offer a small smile and maybe a brief wave before looking somewhere else. It felt a little odd.

By the end of the awards, Jon and I had polished off a bottle of wine between the two of us and I was definitely beginning to feel the effects. I'm a bit of a light weight. I got up to go talk to Naya and apparently she had the same idea, because we ended up meeting between our tables.

"So how drunk are you," I ask, feeling myself sway slightly as I talk to her. I'm not stumbling around drunk or anything, just a little warm, but I want to know where Naya's at. It's fun when we're drunk together, but not when you're the only one drunk.

She makes a face like she's thinking and then answers, "Well, I'm definitely glad I don't have to do any driving tonight, but I wouldn't say I'm drunk."

Matt comes up behind her then, interrupting us and saying, "You ready to go?"

There's a sense of panic that seems to bubble inside me, making me want to grab onto her and scream 'don't leave me', but of course I grab ahold of myself and say, "You guys are leaving together?"

She can see my disappointment, I can tell by her face and she takes my hands in hers, never really a good sign.

"We're just going to the after party with Dianna and Heather," she says, her thumbs massaging the backs of my hands. It feels good, but I refuse to let it distract me.

"I thought you were coming with me," I say, and I blame it on the alcohol that I'm near tears. I mean, I know I'm an emotional person, but this is just excessive. Why should it bother me if she wants to go with Matt? So what if she'd rather go with him than me? Who cares if she's going to take him back to her place and fuck him? It's not like we're dating. She can do what she wants.

"It's just to the party," she explains, "And you have Harry to keep you company. And Jon."

I can hear the bitterness in her voice as she says his name and I start to wonder if this night with Matt is to make me jealous. Of course that's silly. Why would she want to make me jealous? Well, I'm jealous anyways. Matt's got this stupid grin on his stupid face and I just want to hit him. I'm not a violent person though, so I don't.

"You're still coming to my place after, though, right," I ask, hopefully, and I know how pathetic my voice is sounding right now, but I don't care.

She nods back at me with a reassuring smile, "Of course. Just text me when you're leaving and I'll be on my way."

"You better," I warn and lean in to whisper in her ear, so stupid Matt can't hear, "You're the only one I want to sleep with tonight."

She looks like she's blushing when I move back and she leans into me to whisper back, "Same."

I feel a little better, but really not all that much. I want to go with her and make sure Matt doesn't touch her or try to put any moves on her, but I know I can't.

"I'll see you soon, then," I say and she gives my hands a squeeze before I watch her disappear into the crowd, with her hand in Matt's.

"Are you alright," I hear Jon ask beside me, but I'm too busy staring miserably at the spot where I last saw Naya to turn and look at him, "You look like you did that night in New York, when we had that party and you threw up on me."

"Fine," I sigh, feeling his warm hand slide into mine, "Let's get out of here."

* * *

I drink a lot more at the after party, my mood dictating how many drinks I want. My mood wants all the drinks. I end up going a little crazy on the dance floor and luckily I had Harry with me to keep me standing upright.

We don't stay long, we never do, and when Jon tells me he'd rather crack open a bottle of wine at my apartment then stay a moment longer, I'm relieved. I text Naya as we leave to let her know and it's only a minute later when she says she's on her way. That makes me feel a lot better too.

Jon and I get there first and we decide to wait outside for her so we don't have to buzz her in. It's a beautiful night out, so warm and it still surprises me how warm it stays even in January. I'm so used to the blistering cold of New York winters and as much as I love my hometown, I don't miss the cold.

Jon is telling my some story about his latest rendez-vous with a young Broadway dancer when Naya's limo finally drops her off, and I have to concentrate on keeping my feet still so that I don't run at her and leap into her arms. I'm pretty sure in the state I'm in right now, I'd make it two steps before I'd trip over my own feet and face plant into the pavement. She seems to have drank a little more as well as I watch her sway slightly on her heels and hold her hand a little ways out from her side to keep her balance.

"Finally," Jon says, with an exaggerated, drama queen tone to his voice and shove him playfully in the chest.

Naya just smiles and rolls her eyes and I know she's drunk because it looks like whatever jealousy she'd had towards him before seems to have vanished.

"Didjoo 'ave funnn," she asks me, slurring her words as she wraps an arm around my shoulders and we stumble inside my building.

I try to shrug under the weight of her arm and say, slurring my own words, "Missed you."

"Awww," she says, pushing her lip out in a pout, "Me too."

"Oh jeez, am I the only sober one," Jon laughs as we trip into the elevator and I throw him a skeptical look.

"Sweety, you left sober after your second margarita," I laugh and he staggers slightly as the elevator comes to a stop and leans his face close to mine, breaking all personal space barriers. Who am I kidding, I have no personal space boundaries.

He makes a look like he's going to fight me on it, pointing his finger in my face, then breaks into a laugh and taps my nose with it, "Those margaritas were to die for."

I fumble with my keys a few times before I finally get it into the lock and the three of us practically fall into my apartment when the door opens, all of us deciding to try and enter the threshold at the same time.

"More wine," Jon announces as he immediately heads into my kitchen with a finger raised into the air for emphasis.

Naya and I go straight to my couch and collapse onto it somehow managing to kick off our shoes without bothering to undo the buckles. Jon comes in a moment later carrying a bottle of wine in one hand and the corkscrew in the other, excitedly setting it down on the coffee table and quickly uncorking it.

"Glasses," I ask, noticing he hasn't brought any, but he shrugs.

"We don't need those," he says, taking a large gulp, straight from the bottle before handing it to Naya.

"We sure don't," she says, before taking her own sip from the bottle then handing it to me.

"Guess not," I nod and drink. I'm far too drunk to be thinking about proper etiquette right now and if my guests are fine with it, then so am I. We'd likely end up breaking them anyway.

"We need music," Jon says, walking towards my stereo and fumbling with it. It's cute how he can never sit still for a moment the second alcohol enters his body.

My iPod is already attached to the stereo and he starts scrolling through my library as Naya and I watch and continue taking sips of wine. Suddenly his face lights up as he obviously finds a song that amuses him and he presses play before rushing towards me and grabbing my hand. He yanks me to my feet and I have just enough time to pass Naya the bottle before he's pressing the full length of his body against mine and his hands are squeezing my ass. My eyes go wide, but I absolutely love how grabby he always gets when he's drunk. Every time he suddenly turns from the gayest of all gays to a fleeting bisexual.

I hear a female voice speaking in an obnoxious tone from the speakers and it sounds really familiar, but my mind isn't working well enough to remember the song. Suddenly, a male voice breaks through and raps, "I like big butts and I cannot lie..."

I can't even contain my giggles because as Jon is grinding obscenely against me, his hands still tight on my ass, he's rapping every single word to Sir Mix-A-Lot's Baby Got Back. It amazes me that he can remember every line even while being as intoxicated as he is.

I flirt back, grinding my hips against his and pushing his tuxedo jacket off his shoulders and onto the ground. I try my best to keep my sexy face on (although I'm really too drunk to even know if I have a sexy face on), but it cracks every once in awhile when watching Jon serenade me and I end up laughing.

About halfway through the song I hear Naya, from somewhere behind me that I can't see, growl, "Oh I don't think so."

Then suddenly, Jon's hands are being pushed away from ass and replaced by Naya's entire body pressing against me. Her hands grip my hips tightly as she rolls hers against me, grinding against my ass. It takes a few beats for the three of us to find the correct rhythm and move in unison, but once we do, I'm in fucking heaven. I'm the jelly between Jon and Naya and it feels fantastic.

I lean my head back against Naya's shoulder as the three of us continue to grind against each other and when I look down to watch my body meld with Jon's and Naya's fingers curl into my hipbones, I notice that Jon's hands are reaching behind me and holding onto Naya's hips. Maybe her ass, I can't tell from where I am. All I know is that this is the sexiest thing ever and Jon's giving both of us sexy looks and Naya's fingers have found the top of the slit in my dress. I sigh as my eyelids grow heavy and I gaze up at Jon through half lidded eyes as he eyes me back. His mouth is slack as he licks his lips and his thigh slips between mine and I swear I feel Naya's lips press against my neck. Another pair of perfectly good panties destroyed. If this keeps up I'm going to have to start buying those in bulk at Costco too.

I've never been in a threesome before, I may have fantasized about it once or twice (I'm not going to ever admit that when I'm sober), but I want it now. Like I _really_ want it now. And trust me when I say, my body is ready.

I'm pretty sure Jon's got the same idea, I can see it written all over his face. I've known him long enough to know his 'yea, I'm totally down to get laid' look. I can't see Naya's face, so I have no idea if she would be in to it, but I'm praying to god she's on board.

Jon lowers his head towards me, a small smile on his lips as he captures mine. I've kissed him enough times to know his technique and also to know that he kisses like a girl. Girls kiss the best. Where boys try to get their tongue in your mouth as soon as possible, girls like to enjoy the feel of lips on lips for a long time before they open themselves to you. Even after, they don't just shove their tongue in your mouth. They tease you with it, making you chase it and enjoy the fleeting brushes of it. He kisses like that. Maybe it's a gay guy thing too. Someone should let the straight guys in on the secret.

Jon sucks on my bottom lip then gives it a gentle nibble before releasing my lips all together. My eyes open when his lips disappear, disappointed at the loss, then I realize that his eyes aren't even on me. They're over my shoulder, at Naya.

She presses her cheek to mine, giving it a gentle nuzzle, then one of her hands leaves my hip and moves between Jon and I, fisting his shirt and somehow pulling us even closer together. My leg slides further between Jon's and I bite my lip when I discover how hard he is, but instead of thinking about that, I find myself more interested in knowing if Naya is just as wet as I am.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Naya lean forward and then a second later, Jon's kissing her, right over my shoulder, an inch away from me. It looks so fucking hot and I know Jon's grabbing her ass, because he's pulling her harder against me.

Their kiss lasts about half a minute and then they've both got their lips on my neck, Jon on one side and Naya on the other and my initial gasp of surprise turns into a full blown moan. My neck is my weak spot and having two mouths on me is better than anything I could've ever imagined.

Naya's lips begin a wet trail up my neck and across my jaw, but after she reaches my chin she pulls away. I open my eyes and turn my head slightly to look at her, knowing that I must look like I'm drugged, because Jon's now biting my neck and it's so hard to keep my eyes open with that going on. Naya's eyes are alternating between mine and my lips and she's biting hers as if she's not sure she should kiss me or maybe she's waiting for permission. I'm about to give it to her, demand that she kisses me, because I feel like I've been waiting for it forever and I need to know what she tastes like, but suddenly the amount of alcohol I've consumed catches up with me and the room is spinning in wild and nauseating circles. I feel my legs give out and if it wasn't for Naya and Jon, my face would be meeting the hardwood floors right now.

"Whoa," I hear Naya say as her arms wrap tightly around my waist, "I think Lea's done."

I groan, because I so don't want to be done. We've come way too far for this to be over. I want to be the jelly. The naked jelly. With two super sexy people ravishing me all night long.

"I'm okay," I mumble, trying to get my footing, but I start to fall again and Naya's arms and Jon's front seem to be the only things supporting me.

"I don't really feel like getting puked on by you again," Jon says and I want to open my eyes and glare at him, but I'm afraid that if I do, I might actually puke on him.

"You want me to carry her to the bedroom," I hear Jon ask and this time I force my eyes open to pout between them. I don't want the night to end.

"Nah, I got her," Naya says simply, and before I can register what that means, one of the hands disappears from my waist, appearing behind my knees and suddenly my world is literally turned on its side as Naya sweeps me up into her arms. My arms instantly lock around her neck and I let out a squeak, terrified that she's going to drop me. I know that I'm small, but I'm not _that_ light and when I realize Naya is walking me to the bedroom without so much of a stumble, I'm impressed. I knew she was strong, but this is... well... really hot actually.

"Pillows and blankets are in the hall closet," I manage to mumble to Jon as Naya whisks me away.

"Not my first time here," Jon shoots back and then Naya's got me into the bedroom and she's kicking the door closed with her foot.

"You're so strong," I mumble against her neck, I'm so drunk I hardly know what I'm saying anymore. Words just seem to keep falling out.

"I work out," she says with a laugh, "Plus you weigh like ten pounds."

I expect to be dumped onto the bed and try to brace myself for the landing, but she actually leans down and places me very carefully with my head on the pillows. I watch her move towards the dresser, my limbs feeling like they're made out of cement and although I want to crawl under the covers, I don't even have the energy to move my head.

"What're you doin'," I ask as she opens my panty drawer and begins to search through them.

"Finding you some pjs," she says, continuing to sort through my underwear. I should tell her that my boy shorts are in another drawer, but I have hopes that she'll give up and let me sleep naked.

"Can't I just sleep in my dress," I mumble. I don't think I have the energy to take off my dress nevermind put more clothes on.

"Oh yea," Naya huffs sarcastically, "I'm sure Versace would love to get their dress back all slept in."

She does give up her search for my boy shorts, but she finds one of my only pairs of panties that isn't a thong. They're cute, designed after little boys underwear and are yellow with red stars on them. They weren't bought because of Rachel Berry's fascination with stars, but because they looked Wonder Woman-ish and I have a secret love for Wonder Woman.

She finds a white beater from my other drawer, then makes her way back to the bed, setting the clothes down beside me. She looks down at me, her eyes moving from my head to my toes, before sighing and saying, "You're not going to make this easy, are you?"

"Nope," I say defiantly, but mostly because I really can't move my arms or sit up, even if I wanted to.

She rolls her eyes and then nods, grabbing the flowing material on the bottom part of my dress and pulling it upwards until it's all draped around my thighs. It takes me a moment to realize she's covering me up to protect my modesty while she undresses and dresses me. That's kind of a let down.

She reaches under the material and her fingers follow the outsides of my thighs until she reaches the thin sides of my panties. Her eyes drift upwards to the ceiling as she begins to pull them down over my hips and I suddenly realize how wet I still am and about my plans for tossing this pair in the garbage and really _really_ hope she doesn't decide to look at them when they're off me.

No such luck.

Her eyes stay on the ceiling until they've made their way over each foot, but then she glances at them when she straightens back up. I don't think she really meant to, but she definitely saw the... umm... well... she saw them... because her cheeks turn really red and she quickly looks away as she tosses them in the direction of my clothes hamper, missing it completely. I'm blushing now too and feeling like I should apologize or something, but decide to just keep my mouth shut and watch her as she takes the clean panties and starts pulling them up my legs.

When her hands disappear under my dress again, she seems to lose understanding of where they are and instead of stopping when they're in place, she keeps pulling giving me a major wedgie, and not just in the butt area. I let out a squeak and jump as the material bunches against me and her eyes shoot to my face with concern.

"Sorry," she says, wrinkling her nose, "I couldn't tell if they were... Please tell me you can fix them yourself."

I nod, using all my energy to lift my arm and reach under my dress, careful to keep the shield of material in place. Once my underwear is sitting in a much more comfortable location, I manage to drunkenly pull my arm from the one shouldered strap and I'm about to push my dress further down, but Naya's hands quickly stop mine as she says urgently, "Wait!"

I look up at her, confused, but before I can ask her what the problem is, she's already got the beater over my head and is guiding my arms through the holes. She pulls it down, over top of my dress, then reaches underneath and begins pulling my dress down my body.

So I go from almost having a threesome, to Naya not wanting to see me naked. Awesome.

She hangs my dress up in my closet, then goes back to my dresser, once again rummaging through my panty drawer, but this time I'm assuming it's for her. I'm hoping she doesn't find anymore of my panties like the ones I'm wearing and has to settle for a thong, cause I would really love to see her ass right now. Once again I'm out of luck as she finds my only other pair, these ones are rainbow striped (there's nothing wrong with liking rainbows, okay), and then pulls out a beater of her own. She sets them down on top of the dresser, then turns to glance back at me.

I quickly close my eyes before hers get to me, and pretend I'm sleeping, waiting until I hear the soft rustle of her moving again, to crack open one eye and peek at her. She's turned around again, facing the dresser, and her hand reaches to her back to unzip her dress. When she gets the straps off her arms, it instantly falls to the ground and I'm forced to bite my lip when I discover I got my wish. She's not wearing a bra (which I already knew from the plunging neckline), but also, she's wearing a thong and holy crap her ass looks amazing. Her skin is so tan and smooth and I just want to go over there and grab her ass. And bite it.

Then she's bending over to pick up her dress and if I thought that view of her ass was good, her bending over, her legs slightly parted, and the view of the clothed... front part... and she's so wet too. I moan, totally killing my pretend sleeping cover, but there's no stopping it. She quickly turns around to face me, her arms across her breasts, shielding them from my view as her eyes go wide.

"I thought you were sleeping," she says and my eyes are still on the very wet patch of her panties.

"I-," I start to say, but I have no idea what to say.

"Can you like, look away for a sec," she asks, shifting nervously from one foot to the other, and I quickly turn over onto my side and shut my eyes tightly.

I don't open them until I feel the bed dip as she crawls in behind me, and I finally move, pulling back the covers and settling underneath. I stay on my side, facing away from her, feeling more than embarrassed about everything.

I feel the length of her press up behind me as she throws an arm around me and whispers in my ear, "Perv."

She doesn't sound angry, instead her tone is playful, like she's teasing me, and I finally let myself relax. We are both still very wasted, or at least I am, so I'm definitely going to use that as my excuse if the subject gets brought up tomorrow. For now, I snuggle against her, underneath the weight of her arm, and let myself drift away.


	4. Chapter 4

"The bathroom has no towels, Lea," I hear Jon call from the hallway, before the bedroom door is flung open without warning. It startles me out of my dreamless slumber and I open my eyes to see Jon staring at me from the doorway, toothbrush hanging from his mouth. He looks between Naya and me and smiles, folding his arms smugly across his chest and leaning against the door frame, "And what am I interrupting?"

Suddenly, Naya's arm disappears from my waist and my pillow is yanked from beneath me, causing my head to smack against the mattress, not helping my hangover headache in the slightest. I open my eyes in confusion, just in time to see it being flung across the room at Jon, who easily dodges it with a sway of his hips, and Naya's arm returns to its place around me.

"Nay," I whine, now suffering without the comfort of my pillow.

"What," she mumbles sleepily into my hair as if she hadn't done anything wrong.

"They're in the cabinet under the sink," I grumble to Jon as I pull on Naya's pillow until I have enough so we can share it.

"Nope," he says confidently, "I already checked."

I let out a very audible and overly dramatic sigh, pushing the covers back and letting my feet fall to the floor with a hard thud. I sit for a moment, pouting because I'm so tired and just want to get back to sleep, but then I finally draw in a large breath and push myself to my feet.

"Eww," Jon groans, teasingly, "Put some clothes on."

"Oh please," I sigh again, too tired to put effort into playing along as I walk into the attached bathroom and find him a towel. It's not like I'm naked anyway. "Nothing you haven't seen before."

I toss the towel at him before collapsing back into my bed and shoo him away with my hand as he snaps back, "Doesn't mean I want to make a habit of it."

I hear the door close behind him as he leaves and Naya sighs softly as she snuggles back into me.

"Please tell me we don't have to get up yet," she whispers and her breath pleasantly tickles the shell of my ear.

I open an eye and peek at my alarm clock, instantly regretting it, because we only have another ten minutes before it's set to go off.

"Ten minutes," I groan and she makes a disapproving sound before tightening her arm around me and pressing her lips to my shoulder.

Yeah, we're totally just friends. Friends kiss each other's shoulders all the time. And suck on their necks when they're drunk. Since when can't you spoon with your friends in bed every night?

_Why'd you have to go and make things so complicated..._

I frequently hear songs play in my head when they relate to my life and please don't try to tell me that's strange. We all do it. Besides, I'm a singer, it would be weird if I didn't. Right now, I seem to be feeling a little old school Avril.

"Turn off the alarm before we have to suffer through that sound," she mumbles against my shoulder and I reach my arm over blindly, refusing to open my eyes as I feel around on my night table for it. It takes a moment before I'm successful in switching it off, but when I do it feels quite satisfying.

"We can't fall back asleep," I warn, telling her as much as I'm telling myself. It wouldn't be the first time we've slept in and come to work late together, and Ryan is really starting to get pissed off about it. We have a late start time today, because of the awards, but still, waking up at ten this morning feels just as bad as three on those really early days.

"Can't we just call in sick," she says and more than anything I want to say 'yes' and just do it, but Ryan will seriously have our asses if we do.

"Sure, you call Ryan and let me know how that goes," I answer sarcastically, and then suddenly there's teeth, biting into my shoulder. I yelp, not because it hurts but rather not expecting it, and we're not drunk anymore so we can't blame it on the alcohol.

"Don't be mean," she says, "Or I'll bite you again."

"Maybe I want you to bite me," I say, and I mean to say it playfully, but I don't quite make it to playful and instead it sounds more... aroused. She's silent for awhile and I'm wishing I could see her face, because I'm starting to worry that I've just made things really awkward.

I'm about to apologize and say I was just joking, but then her nose brushes back and forth against my shoulder and she whispers thoughtfully, "I thought we were in the studio this morning?"

"You're right," I say and there's really no way of getting out of that. We can only get the recording studio booked on certain days at certain times and unless your voice is fucked so bad that they can't even autotune it, there's no way to call in sick. At least I don't have to look pretty.

"We should get up or else I'm gonna fall back asleep," she groans and shifts slightly, but doesn't really loosen her hold on me or make any attempt to actually get up.

"Do you think this is weird," I say and the words even startle myself, because I really didn't mean to say them out loud. I meant to just keep wondering about it in my head, but not dare say it, afraid of what answer she might have.

"Wanting to stay in bed," she asks and it sounds like she's genuinely confused about what I'm talking and not just avoiding it.

I have a chance to back out and say something else, but apparently I don't take it, "No, I mean us, like, sleeping together and hanging out all the time and stuff."

"Oh," she says softly and then pauses for a long time, long enough to make me really regret asking, "It doesn't feel weird. Does it feel weird to you?"

"No," I admit, "But I feel like it should feel weird, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah," she says simply and then after another long pause she continues, "We're just friends, Lee. I just like hanging with you and stuff. I guess we're a little closer than we are with our other friends, but I think it's just 'cause we've been with each other through the really tough times, you know, like bonded or whatever."

So I wasn't expecting her to confess her love to me and I'm not sure if I wanted her to either, but my heart does sink a little at the 'just friends' part. Like maybe I'm not one-hundred percent sure about my feelings for her, but I do know that after last night, feeling her lips on my neck, I realized that I had more than just 'friendly' feelings for her. I wouldn't say I'm ready to confess my love or anything crazy like that, but I'm interested. I want to know what it's like to kiss her.

"We should get up," she says again, but this time she does pull away from me and is off the bed before I can even react. I watch her walk towards the bathroom and my eyes are drawn to my rainbow panties covering her swaying ass.

_Hey! Hey! You! You! I want to be your girlfriend..._

Oh shut up Avril.

* * *

The day ends up being fairly exciting, recording songs in the studio is always fun, but what really made my day was filming scenes with my new dads. They're so great to work with and they constantly keep me laughing. When filming wraps, however, I'm very excited to go home and see what kinds of compliments Joan Rivers is going to be forced to say towards me.

Naya and I pick up take out on the drive home and we immediately settle in on the couch, with our boxes of vegan Thai, to watch the Fashion Police special SAG episode.

"I still don't think we should watch this," Naya says, poking at her noodles with her chopsticks.

"Do you really think I'm gonna miss Joan Rivers eating her fucking words," I scoff, my eyes glued to the screen as they start criticizing other actresses.

"I just don't have a good feeling," she shrugs with a mouth full of noodles.

"You thought I looked good right," I ask, losing some self confidence again.

"You kidding," she says smiling, "Like sexiest chick there, easily."

I relax and maybe blush a little.

Apparently they decide to wait until the end to talk about the Glee girls, except for Heather who gets a 'Worst Dressed Nominee' (no surprise, I mean I love her and she's gorgeous, but her fashion sense needs a little work sometimes), and then they put us up against the girls from Bridesmaids. They let us know that we're coming up after the break and as the commercials start playing, Naya stands up from the couch.

"I'm going to get a drink, you want something," she asks, pausing for my answer.

"No, I'm okay," I say and she leaves me to watch the Kardashians commercial that we've already seen about forty times in the past hour.

The show starts back up before Naya comes back and I'm about to call to her to hurry, but I get distracted by the show. They face me off first with Rose Byrne and although she did look good, I know I've totally got this one in the bag. I feel good, really confident with myself, and so excited to hear what Joan has to say.

But the compliments never come. Instead, Joan makes another fucking comment about me trying too hard and that she's sick of me and a whole bunch of other things that I can't hear over my anger. I snap and completely turn into crazy Lea. I'm furious, I've been put down too many times and I'm sick of it.

My hand tightens around the remote as hard as I can squeeze it, trying to crush it into a million pieces, but when it doesn't even crack I blindly throw it as hard as I can against the wall. My vision clears as I hear it smash against the wall, pieces falling to the floor, and I find a wide eyed Naya, frozen mid-step and ducking below the fresh dent in the wall.

I open my mouth to apologize, but I'm still too angry and shocked that I came so close to hitting her with the remote, that I can't find my voice.

"Jesus, Lea," Naya gasps, regaining her footing and placing her glass on the coffee table before bending down and picking up the pieces of the remote. She finds the batteries scattered around the floor along with the back piece that holds them in and puts the remote back together as she says, "You're lucky you didn't actually break it."

Problem is, I really _really_ wanted to break it and knowing that I couldn't even accomplish that, with all my strength, apparently causes me to begin bawling like a little child. How could that stupid bitch say those things to me? Didn't I look good? Will I just always be ugly no matter what I wear?

"Oh, Lee," Naya whispers as she drops the remote on the coffee table and dammit, how the fuck does she do that? How does she make her voice drop to such low levels that drip with concern and immediately make me cry harder. The tears in my eyes have blurred my vision and I don't see her close the distance between us until I feel her sink down onto the couch next to me. She scoops up my legs with one arm, wrapping her other protectively around my waist, and in one swift motion she lifts me on to her lap.

All my life I'm so use to being the strong one, mama bear who always has the words of wisdom to give and who looks out for her cubs (or friends), but the roles are reversed now and it feels strange to be on the other side. It's strange to be the one who needs someone else to lean on. It feels good though, to be able to let go of all the pain I have to keep inside the second I step out of my apartment, my sanctuary, it feels good to be held.

The arm that was around my legs moves to join the other around my waist and she locks me against her, slightly rocking me back and forth as she presses her lips to my ear, "You're so beautiful, Mama. You gotta stop watching this mierda. Este pinche puta doesn't know what the fuck she's talking about. I mean seriously, last night I was... you know.. you... just.. me gusta, Nena."

Although I can't understand half of what she's saying, it doesn't matter, because the way she says every word right into my ear, makes me shiver. There's a reason why my word association to 'Latin' is 'Lover'. The Spanish language is like an instant panty dropper and it's kind of an unfair advantage. She could read me the instruction manual to my PVR in Spanish and I would be hooked on every word.

And wait... did she just stutter over me? While my mind is trying to grapple with that idea, I feel her soft lips press against my temple and she's still murmuring words too quiet for me to hear. My eyes close as I lean in to her lips, enjoying the feel of them there, of her surrounding me and comforting me. Her left hand abandons my waist to cup my cheek, holding me against her lips while her thumb reaches out and strokes the tears from my face.

I've stopped crying, I'm too lost in her to even remember what I was upset about and I'm too far gone to even dissect the feelings I'm having or what anything means. I'm lost in the moment, letting my body act and react without my mind connected to it and granted the last time I allowed myself this, here in this very spot, it didn't end too well, I know that this time Naya isn't pranking me.

Her right hand, still curled against my side, begins to trace light circles with her finger tips, making my body jolt each time she brushes an extra ticklish spot. She seems to enjoy the reaction it's playing on my body, because she doesn't stop, even though I'm sure that it's beginning to look like I'm having some sort of a seizure. After awhile, I can't take the spasms rippling through my body anymore, and I cover my hand over hers, forcing it to stay still.

I twist in her lap, holding onto the back of the couch above her shoulders as I move one knee to each side of her, sitting back on her thighs as I straddle her. She's studying me and two fingers of her right hand softly follow the movement of her eyes, beginning at my hairline to my nose, drifting sideways to each ear before back onto my lips then down my chin and neck. Her fingers take extra care on my collarbones, tracing each one twice before continuing their descent along my sternum. When she reaches the neckline of my camisole, she tugs the material down, only slightly, before releasing it and continuing over top of it. She finds the bottom of my ribcage through the thin fabric, and traces the ridges on both sides, the feeling making me shudder against her. Her eyes are locked on each movement and I find myself lost in just watching her memorize the sight and feel of each part of my body.

She switches from two fingers to four after she's finished with my ribs, fanning them out as she drags them down my stomach, causing all my muscles to twitch and spasm. I suck in a breath as her middle finger finds my navel and slips inside and she smiles as my hips buck against her.

Her eyes trail back up towards mine, but this time her hand stays on my lower abdomen and her other hand reaches around me to rest on the small of my back. Her smile is soft with no trace of nervousness or uncertainty anywhere on her face. It's the exact opposite. She looks completely relaxed. I wish I could say the same for myself. The butterflies in my stomach feel more like monkeys on speed throwing a Mardi Gras party. Or elephants. Elephants with rabies. Do elephants get rabies? I mean I know that they could, but is that like an issue? Are there hoards of rabid elephants roaming the earth right now? Why am I even thinking about this?

She's staring at me, right into my eyes, and I know how much she has a problem with eye contact, especially for long periods of time, so this is like, huge. She's not backing down, there's no fear in them, and it's like she's telling me everything that I've been trying to figure out about myself, about us, for the past few weeks, or months.

I want her. But not just like I want to have sex with her and see what that's like. I want all of her. I want to be with her. And I realize I already am. We've had this intense relationship, real relationship, without even noticing. We cuddle while we watch movies. We hold hands when we go out together. We sleep together every night in each other's arms. She eats my vegan food everyday without any sort of complaint. She carries me to bed and changes me into my pajamas when I'm too drunk to do it myself. We even share a fricken toothbrush! (Yes, I'm still using the red one.)

When she's gone I miss her, sometimes even when she just gets up to go to the bathroom. Every time I pick out a new outfit my first thought is if Naya would like it. We've been acting like a couple in love for months and the only thing we haven't really done is the love part yet.

No, maybe I don't watch her sleep and constantly wonder what it would be like to kiss her, but that's not because I'm not attracted to her. It's because I was forcing myself not to so I could keep rationalizing everything and carry on the rouse that we were nothing more than friends.

She's still staring at me as I lift a hand from the couch to lightly stroke her cheek with my fingers.

"What are you thinking," I whisper, my voice sounding raspy and my mouth feels dry.

She holds her soft smile for a while, silent for what feels like forever before she finally parts her lips to respond.

Her response startles me because I'm definitely not expecting what she does next, but suddenly she's singing, very softly and a lot slower than how the song usually goes:

"_I'm sleeping _

_And right in the middle of a good dream_

_Like all at once I wake up _

_From something that keeps _

_Knocking at my brain_

_Before I go insane_

_I hold my pillow to my head _

_And spring up in my bed _

_Screaming out the words I dread_

_I think I love you."_

I burst out laughing because she's starting to sing louder, with a silly grin on her face and the heels of her feet are bouncing with every beat, forcing me to bounce up and down on her lap. Her hands grip my hips tightly and her eyes go wide as she continues to sing:

"_This morning _

_I woke up with this feeling_

_I didn't know how to deal with_

_And so I just decided to myself _

_I'd hide it to myself_

_And never talk about it_

_And did not I go and shout it_

_When you walked into the room_

_I think I love you."_

I can't stop laughing and I'm loving every minute because she's not trying to make this some big serious serenade, but she's still singing it better than the Partridge family ever could. She's being silly and having fun with it and it's making it all perfect. But then her silly smile relaxes and her feet stop bouncing and her hands are cupping my face as she sings to chorus. Singing each line slowly as if to emphasize the meaning of each word:

"_I think I love you_

_So what am I so afraid of?_

_I'm afraid I'm not sure of_

_A love there's no cure for_

_I think I love you_

_Isn't that what life is made of?_

_Though it worries me to say_

_That I've never felt this way."_

Now I know what you're thinking, people don't just burst into song in real life, but seriously, we do all the time. Music doesn't start playing out of nowhere and we don't suddenly breakout into a perfectly choreographed dance, but I really can't even count the number of times Naya has started singing 'Shut Up and Drive" on the rare occasions she trusts me enough to let me drive, Heather can frequently be caught singing 'Single Ladies' (complete with a half-assed version of the dance), and it's very rare to not find Dianna at least humming some new obscure hipster song. Maybe our day job has just spilled over into our everyday lives, but I think music is just so close to all of our hearts that it's hard to not find a song that relates to what's going on at that moment, and we're drawn to just randomly start belting out tunes.

I cover her mouth with my hand as she finishes the chorus, my laughing had subsided when the mood changed, but I don't need her to continue. I understand what she's saying.

I give her a knowing smile and nod, "Me too."

My hand falls away from her mouth and I move in to kiss her, but either on account of my excitement, my innate ability to ruin movie perfect moments, the sweat that has gathered on my palms, or a combination of all three, my hand slides off the back of the couch and instead of a meeting of our mouths, our foreheads smack together.

"Oh thank god that wasn't my nose," I whisper the soft prayer of thanks, rubbing my sore forehead and squeezing my eyes shut with embarrassment. Naya's laughter fills the air and when I open my eyes, she's mirroring my position, with her hand on her own forehead and laughing at me. I can feel myself blushing and I roll my eyes, "Yes, please mock me in my attempts at taking control and be all like, romantic-ish or whatever."

"Lee," she says, trying to stop herself from smiling, but the corners of her mouth continue to twitch, "I'm not mocking you. Quit taking it so serious."

"I ruined the moment," I sigh, lifting my butt off her thighs, but she's quickly pulling me back down before I can move away.

"Is that what you think," she says and she's stopped trying to cover smile, "Because I think we just ended up with a great story to tell our kids one day."

Shut. The. Front. Door.

What did she just say?

"What did you just say," did I say that out loud? Did I say that twice out loud? Did she just say KIDS? I'm not calm. Kids are so far away from any picture. And she's laughing again.

"Dios Mio," she laughs, her arms wrapping around my waist, "You look like your about to pass out. I don't mean now, Nena."

"I'm just not ready to get fat," I say, my mouth no longer connected to my brain, because what I'm really thinking about is my career and the fact that I still play a high school kid on TV and I still feel like a high school kid. Probably because I play one on TV, which I just said, I mean I said that in my head. Oh crap, she's looking at me strangely. Say something intelligent Lea, "Have you ever thought about having a hippopotamus as a pet?"

Dammit.

Her hands cover my cheeks as gives me a calming smile, "Deep breaths. In and out."

I close my eyes and inhale slowly before exhaling and manage to compose myself again. I'm about to open my eyes and possibly apologize for my abrupt little spazz attack, although everyone is fairly use to it by now, but before I can open my eyes, I suddenly feel soft and warm lips pressing against mine. For a little awhile our lips just press against each others, unmoving, just there, then she slides hers along mine, until she's caught my bottom lip and I have her top. My hands tangle in her hair as our lips meld together, hungry but still gentle and the most perfect of all first kisses there could ever be.

Her hands leave my face, drifting down the sides of my neck, over my bare shoulders and down my back until I feel her hands slipping underneath the back of my camisole. My back arches against her as her fingers trace the length of my spine and her lips follow mine as the arch forces my head backwards and her body leans with me. She traps my bottom lip between her teeth and tugs on it, and the sensation stirs a moan from deep in my throat. The sound seems to draw her deeper, because when our lips meet again it's forceful and light fingertips on my back are replaced with nails, dragging up and down.

I'm glad we didn't kiss last night. It could never have been this good. Not while we were drunk and not with Jon there. It's real and passionate, the kind that movies are made of, my favourite kind.

The kiss breaks again after a few minutes, but she doesn't wait for me to catch my breath before her teeth are biting into my neck while she's sucking. There's going to be some marks that I'm going to have to worry about later, but for right now I don't give a crap. I just don't want her to ever stop. And I'm pretty sure this is the reason cover up was invented anyway.

My hips begin their own rhythm, grinding down against her as my fists tighten in her hair. I'm whimpering softly as her tongue soothes the sore area on my neck before her mouth finds a new spot to mark, and I don't care how pathetic I sound. One of her hands finds my hip and she uses her hold as leverage to grind her own hips up against me harder with each movement.

When her mouth finally leaves my neck I'm sure that there isn't any part of it that isn't bruised and her own lips look swollen from it.

"Do you want to," she says breathlessly, her eyes so black I can't even tell which part of them are her pupils.

"Do you really have to ask," I say, raising an eyebrow, and I'm trying as hard as she is to catch my breath.

"Just bein' polite," she shrugs and suddenly, for the second time in a twenty-four hour period, I'm finding myself being lifted off the ground. This time, Naya grips my ass and then just stands up off the couch, making me marvel at the strength she must have in her legs, because seriously, this is just getting ridiculous.

I wrap my arms around her neck and lock my ankles above her butt as she carries me towards the bedroom and look at her with a smirk, "I think I should hire you as my bodyguard."

"Nena, I will guard your body any day of the week," she says with a giggle and I roll my eyes at her line, but laugh along none the less. Her giggles are addictive and she's too cute not to.

She puts me down on the bed, but she doesn't move away from me, staying in my embrace as she moves with me onto the bed. We kiss again while her hands explore my body carefully avoiding all the places that are aching to be touched, but making the feeling very enjoyable all the same.

It goes on forever, though, and as much as I really love kissing her (seriously I really do) and love the feel of her hands massaging my hips and my sides, I need more. I'm way past the need for foreplay, but Naya doesn't seem to be making any move to remove any of our clothing or touch me anywhere else.

"Nay," I say against her lips and she lifts her head to look at me, "I need you to touch me, or like, take your clothes off."

"Oh," she says and suddenly all that nervousness that was missing from her expression before is there. Big time.

"What's wrong," I ask, my hands sliding from the back of her head to rest on either side of her neck.

"Nothing," she says quickly, shaking her head and forcing a smile, "I just... like... never done this before. I mean with a girl. Cause obviously there've been like many times with boys."

"Oh," I smile, relaxing cause for a second there I was worried she was having second thoughts or something.

I push her backwards by her shoulders until she's sitting up on her knees and I sit in front of her. I grip the bottom of her t-shirt and don't hesitate to pull it over her head and toss it somewhere that is away from here. My hands glide up her fabulously sculpted abs and I press a couple of gentle kisses and long licks to the tight muscles. I feel them twitch beneath my tongue and glance up at her face, with my tongue still on her and apparently that was a really good thing to do. Her body jolts forward and her stomach clenches when our eyes meet and she pushes me back down on to the bed, groaning, "Fuck, Lea."

After that it's like all the nervousness and insecurities leave her, and she's ripping my camisole over my head without a second thought. She hesitates for a moment when she sees my breasts, I mean she knew I wasn't wearing a bra, cause hello it's me, but I think she forgot and wasn't expecting to see boobs so soon. But there they are.

Her eyes flash to mine for a second and then she seems to get over the initial shock, biting at my collarbones while one of her hands covers my breast. I'm so way past turned on, so the second her hand comes into contact with my breast my hips are off the bed, my head is thrown back and my hand flies up to hold hers against me. She lets out a soft moan as our hips bump together, and I press my fingers against hers forcing them to roughly pinch and tug at my nipple.

I'm so far gone with all my moaning and her pulling my nipple that it takes me a couple minutes to realize she's stopped biting my collarbone to watch my face. When I finally open my eyes and look down at her, her mouth is open and she looks entirely aroused.

"You look so fucking hot," she says, pinching my nipple again and watching my face contort with pleasure. It's embarrassing to admit that I'm already so close with just her hand on my breast, but I am, and her saying that is driving me even closer.

"I need you to fuck me, now," I gasp, guiding her hand down my stomach. She looks a little panicked when her hand disappears under my pants and panties, but I shake my head in an attempt to ease her, "Don't worry, you're not going to have to do much."

I feel her fingers slide easily against my folds and we both gasp and she breathes, "Dios Mio, you're so wet."

I'm beyond words now, so I just nod dumbly, and I leave her hand there so I can get the rest of my clothes out of the way. I lift my hips as I push my pants and panties as far down my legs as I can reach and then kick them off. For awhile she just stares down at me, her finger teasing my outer lips as she watches and it doesn't take long for me to get restless and a little nervous under her stare. Any time someone stares at your lady parts for that long leaves you a little uncomfortable.

"We have the same parts you know," I say after awhile and she smiles but her eyes don't move.

"Yours is prettier," she shrugs, biting her lip as she smiles.

"I doubt that," I whisper, my hand cupping her cheek and playing with a few strands of hair that have fallen in her face.

Her eyes finally meet mine as she gives me this completely evil smile, then quickly shifts down the bed until she's laying on her stomach with her head between my legs. She gives me one last look before her eyes close and I feel the tip of her tongue brush against my folds hesitantly. The first touch seems to be a taste and the next is a full swipe against the length of my slit, causing me to fist the sheets and let out a whimper.

She shifts again, getting her arms under her so she can use her thumbs to spread me open and when her tongue flicks my clit I scream, bucking my hips against her mouth. She moves her hands, pressing them to the backs of my thighs, hard, and I'm not sure if she knows she's doing it, but she's pushing them back until they're pressed against my breasts. I would feel a little exposed by the position I'm in if her tongue wasn't currently on my clit and distracting me.

My whole body is tingling and all my muscles are twitching and I'm right on the edge of coming apart. She seems to sense it, because while her tongue is still busy working my clit, one of her hands disappears from my thigh and I feel two fingers tease my entrance. She circles it a few times until I scream out her name in frustration, about three seconds away from begging her to fuck me.

She takes pity on me and sucks my clit between her lips while plunging both fingers inside, reaching as far inside me as she can before pulling out and thrusting back in. My hips are moving with her to meet each thrust and my free leg gradually lowers until my heel rests on her shoulder blade.

It's been so long since I've had sex and the build up of sexual tension seems to be amplifying everything I'm feeling. Her fingers begin to curl inside me hitting that spot that drives me closer and closer with each thrust. I open my eyes to glance down at her and find that her dark eyes are already watching me and that image along with everything else pushes me over the edge. My toes curl, my back arches off the bed and I'm pretty sure I'm half moaning and half screaming incoherent babble as fireworks erupt all through my body. It's right up there as quite possibly the most intense orgasm of my life.

Her fingers slow as she helps me ride out the waves and I'm still babbling as my body begins to relax. I really can't tell if I'm actually making any words or if it's just a bunch of sounds, but I am coherent enough to know I'm making some sort of noise. And I'm totally smiling like I've been drugged. I feel like I've been drugged.

Just when my head is starting to clear, I realize that her fingers are still inside me and are beginning to pick up their pace. Her tongue swipes over my clit again, but I'm too over sensitive and I try to close my thighs around her. It doesn't really work since she's still holding one of my thighs to my chest, but I manage to find my words and plead, "Nay stop stop stop stop."

Okay, so it's not quite a sentence, but it's the best I can do.

She doesn't stop though, but she pauses long enough to whisper, "Trust me."

Please, this is not my first time. I've had enough sex to know what my body does and I cannot have multiple orgasms. The thought sounds great, but my body is always far too sensitive to enjoy anything afterwards.

I try to tell her, but once again my words disappear and I'm left thrashing on the bed with tears steaming down the sides of my face as her tongue continues to lap at my clit.

So, it turns out, I don't know my body at all, because after a few seconds of what feels like sheer torture, the broken record of 'stop's I've been repeating over and over turn into 'don't stop's. The sensitivity seems to numb or something and all of a sudden I can feel an orgasm building inside me once again. Somehow it feels even more powerful than the first and I'm pretty sure that I'm threatening bodily harm if she even thinks about stopping or teasing me.

She doesn't stop, instead, I feel a third finger stretching me and that sets me off once again. This time I'm coming so hard I break her hold on my thigh, dropping my foot to the bed as my hands fist her hair and my body curls up around her, so I'm kind of sitting. My eyes are wide and my mouth is open, but this time I'm completely silent. I don't think I remember how to make sounds. This orgasm seems to last forever, rolling through me in waves and making my body convulse and twitch, but in the most pleasant way.

When it finally dissipates, I collapse back onto the bed, completely spent, and if I felt like I was drugged before, well now I feel... I don't even know what I feel. I want to tell her how amazing it was, but when I open my mouth, I only make a sound that resembles, "Mmmmnnnnnnph."

My body jumps again as she pulls her fingers out of me and she slides up my body with a smile on her face. She leans her head down, looking like she's about to kiss me, but then she brings her fingers to her mouth and sucks each digit individually, swirling her tongue around of them with a soft moan. When she's satisfied they're clean, she does kiss me, slow and languid and I can taste myself all over her mouth.

"Yeah," I breathe when the kiss breaks, "You have absolutely no idea what you're doing."

She smiles and then shrugs with an innocent look on her face, "I'm a fast learner."

"Lucky me," I smile, for the moment just enjoying her weight on top of me, "I think I'm going to feel that for the next two weeks."

"Oh I will remind you again before that," she says, softly kissing my jaw. I'm really _really_ liking the feel of her body on top of me, but this also makes me realize that she's basically still dressed, except for her t-shirt, and that is not okay with me. I give myself another few minutes to recuperate while she continues to nuzzle my jaw and neck, then once I feel like I have regained the use of my arms, I slide them up her back until I reach the clasp of her bra. I pinch the clasp with two fingers (not my first time making quick work of a bra) and it immediately releases, the straps falling off her shoulders and the cups laying against my chest.

She pulls back with an impressed look on her face and I roll my eyes, "I'm a girl, remember. We have better knowledge of how these things work."

She raises an eyebrow and says, "Really? Cause I can't remember the last time you wore a bra. I was under the impression you didn't know what they were for."

"Not my fault I have tiny boobs," I pout and her smile widens.

"I like your boobs," she whispers, her eyes staying locked with mine as she leans down and presses a gentle kiss to one of my hardened peaks. I give her a small, appreciative smile back, then pull the straps of her bra from her arms as she lifts each one off the bed to help me. I toss her bra in some direction that I don't care to know, because I'm more interested in finally being able to see her breasts uncovered. And they are glorious. Like, literally, there could be books written about them. I'm definitely not a writer so I'm not even going to begin to do them justice, but they're like the absolute perfect size. They're big, but not grossly big, and they're shaped so perfect and round and her nipples are small and dark and perfect. Did I say they're perfect? They are perfect. Perfect.

"You're staring," she says softly and her voice startles me because for a second I forgot she was attached to those boobs.

"How can I not," I huff, covering them with my hands and gently squeezing them, "Like, you have the greatest boobs ever."

She doesn't say anything and when I look up I realize she's blushing and chewing nervously on her lip and it looks really cute.

I take my left hand from her breast and run my thumb along her bottom lip, forcing her teeth to release it. I stare down at her lip for a moment before meeting her eyes and lick my lips as I whisper, "Have I mentioned that I love you?"

Yup, I sure do. Maybe I wasn't sure all this time, but I for sure know now. And not just because she just gave me two mind blowing orgasms and the best sex I've ever had. I've already known that I've loved her for a long time, but as a friend. Now, I know that I love her as my girlfriend. And yeah, maybe it seems like we're rushing into things since we just had our first kiss and then five minutes later we're having sex, and now I'm telling her I love her, but when you really think about it, it was a long time coming. Like I said before, we've had a relationship for the past four months, we just didn't realize it.

"Not, like, specifically," she says, her eyes still holding mine and seriously this eye contact thing that she seems to be having no problem doing with me, is amazing.

"I love you," I say, and she smiles like that's the best thing I could've ever told her.

"I love you too," she says and kisses me and I understand her smile, because that feels like the best thing she could've ever told me.

Then I've recovered all of my strength and my body is full of new energy from that exchange of words. I push her over and follow until we've switched positions and I'm now on top, straddling her hips. The fly of her jeans brushes against my sensitive centre and my body twitches, quickly convincing me that her pants need to be removed immediately.

She watches as I pull her belt from the loops and undo the buckle, her hands resting on the bed and making no effort to help me. I don't need any help though, and she seems to really enjoy watching me undress her because she keeps making these soft and short sort of moans.

I pop the button on her jeans, dragging down her fly as I lick a line above her panties on the smooth plain of skin between her hipbones. She sucks in a breath through her nose and out of the corner of my eyes I see her hands twist the bed sheets. I smile, taking pride in what I'm doing to her body, then place a kiss to the middle of her panties and feel her body shiver below me. I hook my fingers into her panties and pull them, along with her jeans, off her hips and down her legs. Once the last pieces of her clothing have made their way to my floor, I crawl back up her legs and gently push them apart as I kneel between them.

I drag my nails teasingly down her abdomen and trace the lines of her defined hipbones as she bites back a moan. I continue to drag the fingertips of my right hand over the 'v' of her pelvis and then tease her wet slit as her hips buck against my hand.

"Wait," she says softly and my fingers still as my eyes meet hers questioningly. She's quiet for a minute before she suddenly sits up then leans over the side of the bed and opens the bottom drawer of my night table. My eyes go wide, because that's my toy drawer and I'm wondering how the hell she knows that is my toy drawer. A second later and she's holding up a strap on with an eight inch dildo attached to it and her eyes go wide, "Well that is a lot bigger when it's in my hand."

"How did you know-," I say slowly, staring at the toy in her hand, but I lose focus on my sentence and it trails off.

"Like you've never snooped through my drawers," she says, raising an accusing eyebrow.

Of course I have. I never located her toy drawer though.

"I have a box under my bed," she says, as if reading my mind. I just nod, my eyes still on the strap on, which has actually never been used I should say, and she holds it out towards me with a nervous look, "Do you mind?"

"You want me to-," I say, but that sentence also trails off before I can finish. I've never done it before, but Naya seems to be very interested in it and it's not like I'm opposed to it so finally I take it from her and say, "Okay."

She watches me as I fumble to get it on and once the straps are tightened and it's firmly secured, I feel extremely awkward. It's the strangest thing suddenly having a penis bobbing about down there and my cheeks feel like they're on fire from embarrassment. When I look up at Naya, though, expecting to find her trying to hide her laughing, she's definitely not laughing. She's leaning back on her elbows, knees bent and parted slightly, and looks more like she's about to pounce on me. That look of arousal pushes away all my insecurities and it takes me less than a second to settle between her legs, the silicon cock pressing against her abdomen as I capture her lips and push her back into the bed.

"You ready," I ask, my voice a little shaky as I lift myself onto one hand and wrap the other around my new appendage, teasing her folds with the head and making it slick.

"Fuck yeah," she breathes, moaning as I press it up and down against her clit. I tease her clit a little more before guiding the head down to her entrance, then put my hand down on the bed, using both to support myself as I use my hips to push. I've barely pushed half an inch before she gasps, curling her hands around my forearms and digging her nails into my skin as she groans, "Shit."

"Are you okay," I ask, stilling my hips, because the thing is pretty damn big and she's starting to look like she's in pain.

"Yeah, just-," she pauses and makes another soft groaning noise, then one of her hands disappears from my arm and slips in between us. I look down and watch as she begins to rub her clit and it's pretty fucking hot to watch, so I accidently thrust my hips a little which causes a chain reaction of her gasping and clawing my arm painfully with her nails, and me gasping from the new pain in my arm.

"Sorry," I apologize quickly, but she shakes her head, continuing to stroke her clit.

"No, I'm good," she says, her eyes opening slowly and quirking an eyebrow playfully, "Just go slow. I wasn't expecting you to be so big."

"Oh my god, shut up," I groan, biting my lip because this is all still so awkward. I mean, I'm normally super comfortable with my body, overlooking the recent Joan Rivers debacle, but this thing between my legs is not a part of my body.

She smiles a little, but it quickly disappears as I push a little more and her head drops back on the bed with a sigh. I haven't even got the head in yet, so I'm not sure how slow I'm suppose to go, but after a few more seconds I push a little further in. She moans a little more, but she doesn't really look too much like she's in pain anymore so I continue to gently push inside her. I lift myself a little more so I can see between our bodes and the sight of her stretching around the cock while she plays with herself is making me wet all over again. I try to ignore the ache that's starting to build inside me again, because I'm not sure if she's going to want to do a whole new round once I'm finished with her. Although, now that I'm thinking about her using the strap on me, I'm really hoping she'll be up for it.

The head finally slips inside her and she lets out a soft grunt as her thighs squeeze against my hips and her free hand reaches down and grips my ass. She pulls me further inside her with her hold on my butt and it slides in easily until our hips meet.

I have to say I have a new found appreciation for the amount of work men have to do during sex, because by the time I've finally got the cock all the way inside her, my arms are throbbing from holding myself up. I decide to change positions so that I'm leaning down on my elbows with my forearms underneath her shoulder blades and this seems to work better, she even seems to appreciate the angle more. Unfortunately, her hand is kind of caught between us with limited movement, but she doesn't seem to mind.

I start to thrust my hips in and out as my lips find their way to her neck and find myself concentrating more on finding a rhythm than with what my lips are doing on her neck. It's a lot harder than you would think and my muscles aren't use to working this way. Naya doesn't seem to notice my troubles at all. I can feel and hear her panting against my ear and her soft whimper of the word 'harder' pushes me to do exactly that.

I press one of my hands to her hip, holding it tightly as I thrust into her as hard as I can and I can feel her hips raising off the bed to meet every thrust. My muscles are throbbing, but it's impossible to care about that when I have the sexiest woman below me literally begging me to fuck her. Her nails dig into my ass cheek, then her hand disappears only to reappear a second later on my back, clawing angry marks that burn. My hand takes her wrist, holding it down forcefully above her head so she can't rip apart my skin anymore, and her eyes open at my sudden aggressiveness. Her back arches and her breasts press up against mine and she has just enough time to say "Oh fuck, I'm-"

Then her hips are bucking wildly against me and so high off the bed and her lips form a perfect 'o' as she comes apart. The sounds she makes are soft and choppy with a hint of a growl in each and all I can do is try to keep up the pace with my hips while my eyes are mesmerized by the change in expressions on her face. Her eyes are squeezed shut so tightly the tension can be seen in the lines on her forehead and her mouth continues to open and close. Her body shakes through the orgasm and I slow my thrusts when her hips finally fall back on the bed.

"Don't stop," she whispers, opening her eyes lazily and she looks so beautiful. Her dark hair is fanned around the pillow with a few strands stuck to her slick forehead and lips and I have to admit I'm a little turned on by the small bit of restraining I'm doing to her arm.

"Wouldn't dream of it," I breathe and lean down, capturing her lips with my own. This one's rough and bruising and I use my teeth to bite at her lips while my hips return to their aggressive pace. I'm going to be super sore in the morning, for several different reasons. Who knew I needed to stretch before having sex with Naya. And I'm going to have to clip her nails.

I'm breathing hard from the workout I'm doing and it prevents me from kissing her as long as I would like to, but as soon as our kiss breaks, her teeth find my shoulder and she bites hard, forcing me to moan. I may be a bit of a masochist. But only during sex. Something about the little amount of pain mixed with the pleasure that makes it all feel so much better.

When she realizes how much I am enjoying the biting, it starts to get frantic, her teeth finding spots from my shoulder to my collarbone, to the already bruised skin on my neck without a second thought. Her fist clenches and unclenches against mine that is restraining her, and I can tell she wishes her nails are still marking my back.

Then she suddenly proves to me that I was never in control at all as I blink and then find myself lying on my back, her hands pinning mine above my head while she rides me. There's a smug smile on her face as she takes charge, leaning her weight forward onto my wrists as she stares down at me and slides up and down the cock.

"I'm sensing you prefer to be on top," I tease as her smile widens and I struggle a little against her hold, entirely for her benefit rather than me actually wanting to break free. Aside from my dominant personality, I have no problems being dominated in the bedroom. In fact, I get off on it.

"Does that bother you," she asks, her voice gravelly as she dips her head and nips at my lips with her teeth.

"Not even a little bit," I say, just before she attacks my lips, riding the strap on so hard it starts rubbing me in all the right ways and I begin to moan into the kiss.

She pulls back as soon as she catches the sound and seems to smile with pride, dropping her lips down beside my ear and whispers, "Looks like you're just about ready to pop again."

The shaking in her voice gives her away, though, and I know she's just as close as me to her next orgasm. She releases my wrists and sits back on my hips, one hand steadying herself on my stomach while her other reaches behind her and finds the open crotch of my strap on. She doesn't tease this time, instead she immediately slides three fingers into me and begins to thrust as hard as she can from the awkward angle, using the heel of her hand to bump against my clit.

She watches me as she slides up and down the cock, biting her lip as her breasts bounce in an almost a hypnotizing way. I finally realize my hands are free and I reach down to thumb her clit, causing her head to drop back for a second before she manages to recollect herself and her eyes return to me.

"Cum with me," she hisses, "Fuck Lee, I'm so close. Are you close?"

"Yes," I whisper as my hips start bucking up against her, forcing the cock into her roughly and her fingers dig into my stomach, "So close."

I'm ready to cum, but I hold back until Naya's eyes roll back and her movements lose their rhythm, then I let myself fall over the edge with her. Sitting up and burying my face in the crook of her neck as we both fall apart, screaming each other's names.

I come down first, my body so exhausted I can barely keep my eyes open as I fall back against the pillows. She collapses on top of me when she comes down, resting her chin on my chest and both of our bodies slick with sweat. With every other partner I've had the sweatiness tends to gross me out and make me head straight to the shower, but for some reason with Naya it's just sexy and I would much rather stay like this for the rest of the night.

She stares back at me with a soft, peaceful smile and heavy lids, slumber threatening with each blink she takes. I fold one arm behind my head and comb my fingers through her hair with my other, alternating between the pads of my fingers and my nails.

"It's hot," Naya murmurs, after a long, comfortable silence had settled between us.

She's right, the room has gotten very warm and us lying together is definitely adding to it, but I still don't want her body to leave mine. I don't even want to break away from her long enough to take off the strap on I'm still wearing, even though the straps are digging uncomfortably into my hips.

"I like cuddling," I whisper, I don't know why I'm whispering, but it just feels like this is suppose to be a quiet time. Also, my throat is really sore.

"I think we've both known that for a long time now," she smiles, placing a soft kiss between my breasts then pushing herself up on her hands.

"I don't think so," I say quickly, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her back down on top of me, "Where do you think you're going?"

"Nowhere," she laughs, "I was just hoping to take the strap on off you. As much as I loved it, I'm not too thrilled with it poking me in the butt right now."

"Right now," I question, raising an eyebrow with a smirk, "That seems to be implying that you would like it to be poking you in the butt at a different time."

She bites her lip with a sly smile, "Maybe I would. On one condition."

"What's that," I ask and I have no idea where my sudden excitement for fucking her in the ass has come from. It's never been a turn on before, although I haven't really had too many past relationships with women and doing guys in the butt is just... no. I'll leave that to the gay boys.

"You first," she says in that low sexy voice that always succeeds in hypnotizing me into doing whatever she says and if her body wasn't on top of mine I probably would've rolled over and said 'please'.

It's not something I've ever done before because I've never let a guy do it, no matter how many times they've begged me to try it, but I feel like I could try anything with Naya. I trust her and everything feels so different with her.

"Next time," I promise and I can tell by the look of surprise on her face that she was expecting me to shoot her down.

"Really," she questions, sitting up on her knees and taking the strap on off me before massaging the deep red marks it left behind on my hips and pelvis.

"If you want to," I say, watching her fingers press soothingly into my flesh, "I kind of have this new urge to spend the rest of our lives fulfilling all of our fantasies."

"That's gonna take awhile," she says and her eyes are so dark as she speaks, seeming like she's staring right into me.

"We've got all the time in the world," I answer and I'm smiling like a crazy person, but I can't stop. It's possible that I've got Rachel Berry crazy eyes going on, but I'm so happy I'm literally holding back a football touchdown style dance.

She smiles, leaning down and lightly kissing the angry red marks, causing my stomach to tighten as it tickles my, now extremely, sensitive areas. She then settles onto the bed beside me and pulls the blankets up with her, tucking us both in under them. She nudges me onto my side, throwing an arm around my waist and pressing up behind me, like we had done on so many other nights, but with one major difference, now we're naked.

This whole evening feels like a dream and I know that when I wake up in the morning, it's going to take a while before it all starts to sink in. It's the best damn dream I've ever had, though, and more than anything I hope that nobody panics in the morning and tries to take it back. I don't think it'll happen, but sometimes people can get wrapped up in the moment and then regret things later. Naya seems sure, though, and I know I'm sure.

I feel her lips press light kisses all the way up to my ear as she whispers, "I love you, Lee."

"Love you too, Nay," I sigh peacefully into her embrace.

It doesn't take long for me to begin drifting, thinking about telling our friends at work tomorrow and their expected reactions and I'm almost asleep when I hear Naya whisper again, "So how many kids do you want?"


End file.
